Schemes and counsels occupied their minds, and cares and pleasures filled their hours.

But what took place? In an unexpected hour, the heavens were covered with blackness, the sun was suddenly concealed from view, the universal silence bespoke an approaching catastrophe. Oh, who can describe the trembling fear, the pale dismay, the sad apprehensions, which then took possession of all countenances and of all hearts! Angry lightnings flash, the deep-toned thunders roll, and, as in an instant, the windows of heaven are opened, and the fountains of the great deep are broken up, and torrents of water rush in every direction, and nothing is heard but cries and lamentations-nothing is seen but tumult and desolation.

Is it only a storm or a hurricane, limited in its range, and shortly to subside? No; it is an overflowing scourge, and it continues during forty days and forty nights, and it extends to the whole world, for during that period the waters increase, and the tops of the highest mountains are covered by them. Men have perished; all the inhabitants of the dry land have perished; and all the works of human hands, through revolving ages, are overthrown, and swept away. Destruction and death have triumphed, and the world itself appears to be lost, buried in the whelming waves; and when at length the clouds are scattered, and

the sun shines forth in its wonted splendour, nothing is presented to the eye but a boundless expanse of sea.

Ah! we think of palaces and cities; we think of the rich, the mighty, and the gay; of the slaves of ambition, and of the votaries of pleasure; but how do our hearts sink within us, as we view the awful destruction with which they have been overtaken!

But what does all this mean? What is the cause of it? Why are men, and the habitations of men, thus destroyed? It is a work of righteous vengeance. We recognize in it the hand of Him who is omnipotent, the ways of Him who is holy and just in all His proceedings. The historical record of the old world is scanty, but it is sufficient to show us, that men had generally, yea universally, plunged into ungodliness and sin. All were either worldly, or sensual, or tyrannical, or unjust; and to such a degree was this the case, that "it repented the Lord that He had made man on the earth, and it grieved Him at His heart." While, therefore, we look upon this boundless ocean, we see before us a demonstration not only of the power, but of the moral government of God. The work before us is, as we have said, one of righteous judgment.

And is there nothing to relieve our minds in this melancholy and awful scene? Yes; we look to the Ark,

we know that it contains one patriarch, and his family, and a select number of animals. We watch it, perhaps, from the commencement of the desolating process. We see it rise from the earth, and float upon the waters. As winds blow, and as billows roll, we are anxious for its safety. But it rides majestically amidst the waves, and pursues its course, guarded and guided by an unseen and almighty hand. At length it is stationary; it rests "upon the mountains of Ararat."

Justice hath performed its office in the punishment of a rebellious and incorrigible race; and now the same almighty power is shown in the

about a restoration of all things.

way of mercy, bringing No longer the heavens

are black with clouds,—no longer the windows of heaven are opened, -no longer the gushing fountains of the deep pour forth their stores. A wind passes over the earth,— the waters subside, the tops of the mountains are seen. The work of restoration still advances; the face of the ground is dry; and at the Divine command, the inmates of the Ark go forth, to behold again the works of creation, and to engage again in the occupations of human life.

In this proof of the Divine mercy we are delighted; and more so when we consider it in connection with God's faithfulness to his original promise in paradise. Not yet has the seed of the woman bruised the serpent's head:

and if man be utterly destroyed, how can the promise be accomplished? But all the ways of God are in truth and goodness, as well as in holiness and justice.

In the Deluge, therefore, we clearly see, in a striking manner, a manifestation of God's perfections in complete union. We learn in it the hateful nature of sin, and the fearful end of the workers of evil. But we also learn in it the care which God has for His people, and their safety, even in the midst of His most terrible doings towards the children of men.

The destruction of the world by the waters of the Deluge, form one catastrophe; but we should remember that the world is reserved for another, by a more fearful element. It is a solemn thought—and why hath it not a due place in our minds?-that we ourselves shall be spectators of the final conflagration, when "the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the earth also, and the works therein, shall be burnt up." Look we back, then, upon the past; anticipate we the future; and lay we to heart the serious question, "What manner of persons ought we to be in all holy conversation and godliness?"