appearance of his loins even downward, I saw as it were the appearance of fire, and it had brightness round about. As the appearance of the how that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD."* In this vision of Ezekiel, the fiery splendour which bodies forth the severe majesty and authority of Jehovah, is relieved by the appearance of a milder radiance like the rainbow-exhibiting him also as a God of love. So too, in the Revelation of St. John: "And immediately I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne was set in heaven, and one sat on the throne. And he that sat was to look upon like jasper and a sardine stone; and there was a rainbow round about the throne in sight like unto an emerald."+ In the same manner, and with the same intent, the rainbow was employed in the representations of the ministers of Jehovah, as in the following verses; "And I saw another mighty angel come down from heaven clothed with a cloud, and a rainbow was upon his head, and his feet as pillars of fire."‡

Transient as is the rainbow, the covenant of which it is the memorial is alluded to by the sacred writers as of the most unchangeable nature. The prophet Isaiah, desiring to express the force of another covenant of Jehovah, compares it to this. "For this is as the waters of Noah unto me: for as I have sworn that the waters of Noah should no more go over the earth, so have I sworn that I would not be wroth with thee nor rebuke thee."§ To the same covenant Jeremiah evidently refers. "Thus saith the Lord, If ye can break my covenant of the day and my covenant of the night, and that there should not be day and night in their season, then may also

* Ezekiel, i. 26, 28. Rev. x. 1.

+ Rev. iv. 2, 3. Isa. liv. 9.

my covenant be broken with David, my servant, that he should not have a son to reign upon his throne, and with the Levites, the priests my ministers."* "So the traditions of the North," says a distinguished biblical scholar, "after their fashion, represent the rainbow as a bridge, which shall stand firm even to the end of the world, and can be broken asunder only at the final shaking of the firmament”—a tradition which manifestly has its origin in the promised everlasting duration of the covenant of which the rainbow is the declared visible memento.

It has been objected to the probability of this narrative of the rainbow, that it speaks of the phenomenon as now appearing for the first time, although more than 1600 years had elapsed since the creation. It is said to be incredible that the sun should not during this long period have so shone upon the descending drops of rain as to produce an appearance which is now by no means of uncommon occurrence. It would be a sufficient answer to this objection, to say that it assumes a fact not to be admitted without evidence. It makes unwarrantable pretensions to a knowledge of the physics of the antediluvian world. Had there been rain previous to the flood? is a question which the objector is bound to answer before he appears with the objection. A passage in the history of the creation intimates a process by which vegetation might have proceeded without the influence of rain. "These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth, when they were created in the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, and every plant of the field before it grew for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground, nor a mist which went up from the earth, and watered the

*Jer. xxxiii. 20, 21.

whole face of the ground."* The vegetable kingdom was in the first instance produced in full maturity by the creative power of Jehovah. There had been no rain, there had been no cultivation of the soil, there had been no mist which, ascending from the earth, watered the ground. Might not this latter process have been employed in the antediluvian world instead of showers of rain, for the purpose of promoting vegetation? It cannot be affirmed that this was the fact. The history is not sufficiently circumstantial to settle this point. But the objector must show that showers of rain were indispensable to purposes of vegetation, before his objection will, on this ground, be entitled to validity. If it could be shown that rain was one of the natural phenomena of the antediluvian earth, still this would not be sufficient for the objector's purpose. It would then be incumbent on him to prove that the region in which the patriarch lived was acquainted with such a phenomenon. He must describe the climate of that region, and render it evident that it was not during the whole year like some climates of the modern world during a great part of the year, one in which rain did not fall. If the family of Noah had never witnessed the rainbow, nor known of its existence, it might very properly be spoken of as now appearing for the first time. Certainly, Jehovah might say, "I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the

* Our English version of this passage is, "But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground." I think this version incorrect, inasmuch as it makes the verse without pertinency in the narrative. But if it be correct, the passage is the more favourable to my present purpose. For in this case it explicitly asserts the existence of a process of irrigation, which might have continued until the time of the deluge.

earth." It would have all the significance requisite to make it in their eyes the pledge of such a covenant.

The common answer to this objection, however, is, that the words "I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a memorial of a covenant between me and the earth," do not necessarily imply, that the phenomenon had not appeared before. A somewhat different version of the passage is allowable. It might be translated, "I have appointed my bow in the cloud to be as a token of a covenant between me and the earth." The promise of Jehovah did not need the confirmation of any visible sign, in order to command the confidence of men. The bow is not spoken of as a confirmation of the covenant, but as a memorial of it. The import of the language of Jehovah in reference to it is,— "When hereafter you shall see this sign of returning serenity in the clouds, you shall call to mind that I remember the covenant which I have made. Let this phenomenon hereafter be associated in your minds with my promise." It must be admitted that there is force in this reasoning. Yet, if we suppose that before the deluge neither rain nor rainbow had ever been seen by Noah and his family, the significance of the whole transaction, both the making of a covenant like this, and the instituting of a memorial of it, is greatly increased. In this case, when now, under the altered laws to which the earth was subjected, angry clouds should threaten and begin to pour down their contents, with what consternation would men behold in these before unusual appearances the beginnings of another deluge! What occasion would there be for something to calm their fears! And would not the moral weakness of men require the appearance of a visible token to confirm their faith? But whichever opinion we adopt, we perceive that the attempt

ed objection is as destitute of foundation as "the baseless fabric of a vision."

The concluding events of Noah's life we might pass over as not particularly connected with the sacred history of the deluge, were it not that a superficial view of them has given rise to impressions that they are inconsistent with the account which has been given of the patriarch's character. It appears most extraordinary to him who beholds them in the mere light of the institutions and opinions amid which he himself lives, that the same man of whom it has been said that "he walked with God," that he "was perfect in his generations," to whom God himself bore witness, saying, "for thee have I found righteous before me in this generation," and who was selected for his virtue from an entire generation, to be the subject of such a signal deliverance, should now be represented as drunken-as awaking from his wine and imprecating curses upon his grandson, for a trivial offence committed, not by himself, but by his father.

As we fall upon these incidents in our history, and recollect the manner in which they are often regarded, how forcibly are we reminded of the extreme narrowness of that understanding which erects as an invariable standard for the estimate of human affairs, its own diminutive, illiberal conceptions! The student of the world's history, if he would estimate it aright, must be the man of all nations and of all ages. He must in some sense clothe his mind with the attributes of universality. He must be acquainted with all customs, and imbibe the spirit of all institutions. He must withdraw the veil of time, annihilate the intervention of distance, remove the film of prejudice, and survey human society in the successive gradations of its progress and its retrocession, not in the light of his own, but