mountain while the water was of considerable depth, and while the billows still rolled over the lower hills. Accordingly, after this event, for two months and a half, the water continued to abate, before the tops of other mountains began to appear. Forty days after this, Noah sent forth a raven; seven days after he sent forth a dove; but she found no rest, for the waters were on the face of the whole earth; seven days after he sent the dove again, and she returned with an olive leaf. Could the language of mortals, could the language of heaven, make the declaration of any event more certain, than the universality of the flood in these passages? Pre viously God had said to Noah, "that the earth," all the earth, "was filled with violence, and that he would destroy all flesh with the earth." Such was the threatening. Could Noah, could any intelligent being suppose, that any part of the earth was to be excepted from the destruction? In giving a history of the awful catastrophe, when it was closed, God says, he did, according to his threatening, destroy "all flesh, and that the waters did cover all the high hills, under the whole heaven." In his covenant with Noah afterwards God promised, "that there should be no more a flood to destroy the earth." If with these declarations before us we do not believe the flood universal, neither should we be persuaded though one should rise from the dead, and declare it.

Yet some persons, to prevent a waste of water, and contrary to all evidence on the subject, imagine that this deluge of hills

and mountains was confined to a particular part of the world. They suppose it confined to the inhabited part of the earth; how great a portion this was, they have not informed us; only that it was not the whole.* Objections accumulate against this hypothesis. Why were birds and beasts collected in the ark, if the deluge was not universal ? They had doubtless wandered, beyond the supposed dwellings of men; they would soon have again replenished the new settlements after the flood. Why was any ark built? Why was a miraculous, and unknown voyage undertaken? It would have been easier, and infinitely less dangerous for Noah to have travelled beyond the settlements made, where he might have rested in safety. Some of the mountains of the old world are ten, fifteen, and sixteen thousand feet, and upwards in height. The ob jection then supposes a pile of water two or three miles high in a square, round, or zigzag form, as the settlements might extend in a straight line, project down a fertile valley, or retreat, to avoid a barren plain, a rocky moun

In this objection the ignorance is equal to the wickedness; for all the calculations of the learned make the than the present. antediluvian population vastly greater See Stackhouse and Encyclopedia.

The St. Gothard is 10,000 feet high. Mount Etna is 11,000, Mount Argentiere is 13,000; Teneriffe is 15,000; Mount Blanch 15,662. Ararat has probably never been mea sured, but 16,000 feet in height is the region of perpetual snow. Mr. Tour. nefort, who was on the spot, says that the top of Ararat is covered with perpetual snow. Some of the mountains in Norway are 18,000 feet in height.

tain, or a dismal swamp. The laws of nature are suspended, gravitation ceases, or water becomes solid, a monstrous miracle is invented, contrary to all evidence, merely to cast contempt on the authority of revelation. This absurdity would strike infidelity dumb, were she not in the habit of trampling on truth, or of straining at gnats, and swallowing camels. Is it not astonishing that Moses should describe the dividing of the Red Sea, and of Jordan, as surprising miracles, and not mention this pile of water three miles high, and perhaps several thousand in diameter ?

Others excuse their unbelief, by imagining the history of Moses figurative. It is true that sometimes by a figure, synecdoche, the whole is put for a part, but there must always in this case be some proportion between the part and the whole; nor must the writer, unless he would be charged with bombast or falsehood, use such particular phrases, as Moses does in his history of the deluge. Let us for a moment examine the account of the deluge, supposing it to be figurative. This class of objectors allow, that the water might rise fifty-two feet and a half high; but the Bible says, the water covered the high hills and mountains fifteen cubits. The Chimborozo is twenty thousand six hundred feet high. The floods on the Missisippi are now often thirty feet high. As fifty-two and a half feet are to the height of Chimborozo with the sixteen cubits, which covered its surface; so are thirty feet to 11,788 feet. Now let a traveller, who saw the rise of Vol. I, No. 8. W w

the Missisippi this year, insert and publish in his journal, that on the 17th day of April, the heavens were opened, the rain fell, the floods rose till the high hills were covered, till the mountainst on the north west coast of America were covered 1788 feet, till Quito Capilate in South Americat was covered 1546 feet, till the highest mountains in Vermont§ were covered 8,334 feet deep; that all the inhabitants of these countries perished, excepting a dozen families, who ascended Chimborozo, Catopaxi,¶ and a few other mountains, which reared their summits above the billows of the flood; that after the waters began to abate, it was several months before the hills appeared; if after reading this tremendous description, and shuddering for the destruction of the human race, it should be discovered, that the water rose only thirty feet, covering only the swamps of Louisiana, drowning nothing but a mammoth, and an aged man, sick in his cabin, what would be thought of the writer? That he was a madman would doubtless be the first impression. If on examination he were found to be a cold hearted philosophist, infamy would cover his name. Yet this description is less particular, and less extravagant than the narrative of the flood, according to those, who deny that it was universal.

If, in this cool, dispassionate narrative, where the figures, and splendid expressions of poetry are not admitted, the artless declarations, that all the high hills were covered, that the mountains were covered fifteen cubits, that all creatures on the dry land died, that after a hundred and fifty days the ark struck on a mountain of Ararat, that two months and a half after the tops of other mountains became visible; if all these, and other expressions, we have quoted, do not prove the deluge universal, no language can be explicit, no confidence can be placed in his tory or inspiration. Those, who reject the plain, simple narrative of the flood, may as well reject the history of the fall, or the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, and scoff at all religion.

It

Still cavils are made. is inquired, whence could water be found to Cover the earth so deep? Those, who inquire, may perhaps reject the fact, unless they are satisfied, as to the means of its being accomplished. They may as well inquire how God created the world, or how he can be self-existent and eternal; and if creation, self-existence, and eternity be not explained so as to be understood, reject the creation, self-existence, and eternity of God. When there is conclusive evidence of a fact, it demands our belief, however incomprehensible it may be.

He,

who kindled the sun, and created the sea and dry land, would create floods to fulfil his threatening, unless there were other means. Most men are satisfied that water was furnished by natural means. But the fear of be

ing tedious to the reader forbids us to give a sketch of their different theories.*

Whatever system be adopted, it was indubitably a terrible day, when all nations were destroyed. This is confirmed by the nature of the fact, and the description of the Bible. The fountains of the great deep were broken up; the windows of heaven were opened; clouds gathered; the light of the sun was obscured; the atmosphere dissolved in rain. Doubtless for such a purpose the sun and the winds would be so directed, as to bring into operation all the waters of the world, the snow of the mountains, the ice of the poles. The chain of Caucasus, of Taurus, of the Alps, of Atlas, Lebanon, and the mountains of the moon, the Andes and Alleganies, yielded their snowy robes, and sent their roaring torrents to the plains below. The north and south poles, those amazing cupolas of ice, whose diameter in winter is six thousand miles, dissolve like flakes of snow in a southern breeze, and pour their floods into the swelling oceans. The streights of Behring, of Hudson, Davis, and the opening of the Baltic rise, foam and roar, with new fury; their rapid currents, white as the falls of Niagara. The oceans roll their billows to the equator. The currents meet; the waters rise; they wheel; awful whirlpools are formed; counter currents tear up the bottom of the deep; the shells, which formed its pavement round the Antilles, and the Cape de Verd Islands, are driven

....

* See Whiston, Burnet, Buffon, St. Pierre, Whitehurst, and Encyclepedia, article, Deluge.

to the plains of Normandy; those, which adhered to the rocks of Magellan, are dashed on the hills of Burgundy; huge banks of madrepores are tossed on the isle of France; horizontal layers, the wreck of fishes, sea weeds, shells, corals, and pastes of marble, are spread over the greater part of Europe, and form the soil at the present time. By the same flood the eastern part of the continent is covered with a vegetable mould three or four hundred feet deep.*

Terrific darkness, wild uproar, and destruction, extend to every country. Islands of ice, loaded with white bears, run aground amid the palm trees of the torrid zone; elephants of Africa are wafted into the fir groves of Siberia, and the plains of Carolina. The bones are found there to this day. Palaces and cities disappear, washed away as dust on the shores. The cottage on the mountain is filled with consternation and despair. The increasing darkness, the howling winds, the roaring thunders, the rising waters, show them there is no escape. In the midst of day, it is a dismal night of horror. The. glare of the lightning shows them the objects of danger and dismay in tremendous forms. How comforting now would be that religion, they had always despised, or even that humanity they had never cultivated? Could they now look up to God, as their Saviour, and to heaven as their home, they might with admiration gaze on the awful scene around them; they might welcome the first surge that should burst on the mountain's top.

more

....

* In China, St. Pierre.

Some relief would it be could they sympathize together in this moment of misery and terror; nothing but unkindness and reproaches are seen or heard. Instead of repenting themselves, instead of rejoicing at the deliverance of Noah, when by the lightning's blaze they have. a glance of the lordly ark, floating in safety on the stormy world, they pour their imprecations on him, as a praying hypocrite. But their hour is come. The billows rise; the highest mountains are covered; Atlas and Lebanon are overwhelmed as pebbles on the shore. All flesh dies. The sea boils as a caldron. The world is a sea without a shore. The inhabitants are gone; they sleep in their watery graves; they hear not the raging of the tempest. Such are the wages of sin. PHILO.

to take only that quantity of sleep, which nature requires, and which is most conducive to health of body, and vigour of mind. It is allowed, that one quantity is not suited to all. Bishop Taylor has assigned, for the general standard, only three hours in twenty four.

Baxter supposes,

that four hours will suffice. But the best observation teaches, that, in general, the human body can scarcely continue in health and vigour without six hours. This, it is thought, may be properly considered, as the common standard.

This,

But one and another may say ; "why so particular, and scrupulous? what harm is there in lying from ten to six or seven in summer, and from ten to eight or nine in winter, as most of my neighbours do?" But consider, candid read er; if you daily spend in sleep only one hour more, than nature requires, you throw away seven hours every week, which would amount to more than fifteen whole days in a year. If you live to the age of fifty, this waste of time would be seven hundred and fifty days, or, making allow ance for the usual sleep, about a thousand days. What an injury to your worldly substance! How much might you do in this time to promote your temporal advantage! How much might you do for the benefit of others!

Spending unnecessary time in sleep is injurious to health, especially in persons who are subject to nervous complaints. The great benefit which health receives from early rising, may be illustrated by the following instance. A young person was reduced to so low a condition, as

to require assistance in walking across the room. Supposing it necessary in her enfeebled state, she often slept eight or nine hours, to the great damage of her health. Meeting some observations on early rising, she was induced to make the trial. By rising one quarter of an hour earlier every morning, she soon lessened the time of sleep to six hours. By persevering in this practice, and in other suitable methods, her strength gradually increased; her complaints, which had long baffled medical skill, subsided, and health returned.

How injurious to the soul, as well as to the body, is needless sleep. Such a waste of precious time is surely a great sin against God. How much benefit might we derive from a right use of the time, which some waste in sleep! "I take it for granted, (says Mr. Law) that every Christian, who is in health, is up early in the morning. We censure the man, who is in bed, when he should be at his labour. Let this teach us, how odious we must appear in God's sight, if we be in bed, shut up in sleep, when we should be praising God, and are such slaves to drowsiness, as to neglect our devotions for it." Did not our blessed Lord use to pray early? Was not devout Anna day and night in the temple ? Did not the primitive Christians esteem it a sacred duty to be seasonable in their devotions? If you waste unnecessary hours in sleep, and so abridge or prevent your religious exercises; is it not a symptom of a carnal temper, and a dangerous state? Does it not indicate, that you are not under the influence of that lively, zealous, and watchful