the same time symbolical scenes, in each of which we have a personal interest, and both commend themselves to our earnest attention.

The first carries us back to the morning of the postdiluvial world.

The Deluge had ceased, "The fountains also of the deep and the windows of heaven were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained."

The ark containing the eight survivors of the old world rested on Mount Ararat, the dove had been sent forth, and, after returning with an olive leaf in her beak, was again let go, and came back no more. The land became dry, the covering of the ark was removed, and Noah and his family went out of their floating habitation, and stood once more on the firm dry earth, the fons et origo of a new generation. The pious patriarch built an altar to the Lord, and the sweet savour of his sacrifice rose up acceptably to heaven, and God returned to the worshippers promises of rest and peace.

But God did more than merely give a promise. He entered into a formal covenant with Noah and his sons, the purport of which was, that "all flesh should not be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth." This covenant was ratified by a seal of signal beauty and expressiveness: "And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you, and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual

generations. I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud * * * * and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant."

A few days, perhaps, after this solemn transaction, there is seen a gathering of clouds in the heavens, the sky is quite overcast, the dark masses roll in intermingling convolutions, the wind rises and sweeps down the mountain gorges-the big drops of rain fall with a heavy patter, the thunder mutters its distant warnings, and all conspire to fill their minds with terror and alarm. They recall the scene a few months back, when the first waters of the deluge fell, and the first of the fountains of the great deep was broken up; and a secret and unwillingly-admitted fear steals into their minds, lest perchance another storm may sweep them from the earth. But it is only for a moment; they think of God's promise, they remember his covenant, and, lo! as they gaze upon the dark clouds, they discern delicate tints and particoloured stripes, acquiring each moment more perfect brilliancy and form, until the whole eastern sky is spanned by the seven-listed bow of promise; and, as they look upon the beautiful arch, they recall the covenant of God, and rejoice in the assurance of safety thus vouchsafed, beholding, as they do, upon the very storm which created alarm, the seal and signet-ring of a covenant-keeping God.