striking, if for the first time he then beheld the magnificent spectacle. (3) Admitting the natural causes of the rainbow to be co-eval with creation, it does not follow that the moral ones were; and might not natural causes be wisely and mercifully suspended for the sake of moral effects? (4) Had men been always familiar with the celestial arch they might have said, "what guarantee does your sign afford us? The bow was set in the cloud before the flood, and yet the flood came." (5) The word rendered sign, often signifies the proof or evidence of a thing; as in Exod. iv. 7, "Thou shall do these signs and wonders in the midst of Egypt." (6) The phrase "I do set my bow in the cloud" very naturally imports an act not performed before. (7) The Hebrew (nathatti,) generally sustains this sense; as examples, see Numb. xiv. 4, and Kings ii. 35. (8) The sign wrought before Cain, was wrought then; the signs performed by Moses before Pharoah, were performed then; "signs following" the preaching of the gospel, were signs immediately following: and the appointments recorded in the two passages just adduced, were made then and not earlier. Finally, in verse 17th. we read, "God said unto Noah, this is the token of the covenant," &c.; upon which Jarchi remarks, God having merely affirmed, in a general way, that he would appoint the rainbow as a sign of the covenant, so that whenever it should appear it should be thus regarded, was pleased for the confirmation of Noah's faith to fill the western sky with clouds, to form the promised iris thereon, and then pointing to it graciously said, "this is the token of the covenant." Such, at any rate, says Bush, "is the usual force of the demonstrative (rendered) this.”

We have thus contemplated the bow in a physical and in a federal light, and but for apprehensions of tresspass should proceed to note down a few suggestions; the reader, however, should he feel sufficient interest in the subject, will supply this

deficiency by reflections of his own; allowing us by this means an opportunity of setting in an evangelical light, "the bow in the cloud."

For thus saith the Lord; "In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy redeemer; 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 wrath with thee, nor rebuke thee. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.” (Isa. liv. 8, 9, 10.) This inimitable passage, so like its divine author, and which will bear reading from morning till night, is clearly susceptible of an evangelical sense, representing "God in Christ reconciling the world unto himself;" and as the "God of peace" bringing "again from the dead, our Lord Jesus Christ, that great shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant," which is "ordered in all things and sure," and" contains all our salvation." Viewed in this relation, no object in nature can be so significant so conspicuous, so majestic, or so entrancing as "the bow in the cloud."

Behold it in the cloud of God's wrath, hushing the maledictions of violated law, which issue from "the secret place of thunder," threatening "the vengeance of eternal fire." Mercy forms the bow, the bow spans the cloud, the cloud changes its aspect, and from the " thick darkness" justice itself smiles, while infinite affection proclaims, "peace, peace, to him that is far off, and to him that is nigh." Terror only drives us farther from God; it is the "still small voice" which attracts, and soothes,

and assures our hearts before him. Mercy proclaims a covenant salvation, and God speaks to us as a covenant God. Peace forms its empire within. We look up and feel tranquil, for redeeming blood appears in the covenant, and we see "the bow in the cloud."

Hence we read of two immutable things by which God affords "strong consolation to them who have fled unto him for refuge," not who are fleeing-though the bow is for them-but those who have fled, for they sometimes need it. But what are these two immutable things, which are to subdue our fears and give us "strong consolation?" Theologians have quibbled, and divines have divided on this question. Here is the answer: they are God's covenant oath confirmed by a covenant sign. These quieted Noah, and these persuade the believer. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee;" i. e. on his covenant oath confirmed by a sign, which sign is Christ, mediatorially considered. "For thus saith the Lord, in an acceptable time have I heard thee, and in a day of salvation have I helped thee: and I will preserve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish the earth, to cause to inherit the desolate heritages." Here we see God doing in a covenant way, for the Gentile world, under the gospel dispensation, what he did for the world after the flood,peopling it with another seed; making all things new; effecting religious creations; and accomplishing all according to an everlasting covenant, of which Christ himself is both the substance and the sign. Well might Anna look for redemption in Jerusalem; and Simeon wait for the consolation of Israel. We can realize his extasy when we hear him exclaiming, "Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast

prepared before the face of all people." Here is "the faithful witness" in the new heavens and the new earth.-The bow in the gospel firmament.

Ezekiel's vision by the river Chebar, and John's in the isle of Patmos, are too important to be omitted. Thus writes the first: "Upon the likeness of the throne, was the likeness as the appearance of a man above upon it. And I saw as the colour of amber, as the appearance of fire round about within it, from the 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 bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord" chap. i. 26, 29. Here can be no mistake, either about the person, or the design of the bow; "God, who cannot lie," has promised us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. All fulness dwells in Him. Jehovah's name, too, is in Him. Divine perfections cluster there, the man is enthroned, but the God is adored. The covenant in all its treasures; salvation in all its freeness; the Church in all its antiquity, perfection, holiness, members, interests and relations, centre in him as a divinely constituted head, around whom, the bow in all its magnificence forms a mediatorial arch-comprehending all, securing all, glorifying all.

"This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord," meaning an emblem of the glory, both of his person and the importance of it. His glorious person filled his work, and that made his work glorious; his glorious work fills the bow, and that makes the bow glorious; while the glorifying bow is thrown around both himself and his throne, as if to guard, distinguish, and confer peculiar honour. It therefore comprehends his person, mediatorial fulness, and divine adminis

trations both in heaven and on earth. He keeps in safety all that have been entrusted to him; so that of all which the Father hath given him he should lose nothing, but raise it up at the last day; and not only preserve, and raise, and restore, but adorn, exalt, and glorify for evermore. He ensures us safety,safety in him, safety through him, safety with him. He is the antitypical ark, for there is salvation in no other; yet there is in him; consequently it is said, "to Him shall men come,"-as the creatures went to Adam for names, and to Noah for shelter. For his work is like his person,-complete, everlasting and wonderful. He is the "hope of Israel," the peace of all his saints, and the praise of all his people.

"The bow in the cloud,"—who can help admiring it? What a tranquilising scene presents itself after the "terrors of the Lord" have been seen in the uproar of nature. Rubens has depicted the scene with admirable skill, for his pencil was true to nature; but every thing falls short of him who is "the brightness of glory," and of that peace which is diffused by "redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace."

"The bow in the cloud!" How charmingly all the primordial colours blend in the rainbow! and what a constellation of excellencies, what a combination of perfections, divine and human, meet in our Immanuel! All the charms of nature, all the attractions of heaven, all the ages to come, with all that exist of the sublime or the beautiful, are glorified in him. "For how great is his goodness! and how great is his beauty!" His name is "wonderful," and he is "altogether lovely."

"The bow in the cloud!" Who can define where the colours either begin or end? so delightfully do they unite, and melt into one another. And who can say where the divine and