: STUDY IX. DAY II.-"GOD MADE THE FIRMAMENT." "Was wär' ein Gott der nur von aussen stiesse, Im kreis das all am Finger laufen liesse ! So dass was in Ihm lebt und webt und ist GOETHE. "Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."-ISAIAH. THE second day's work was not praised for being good. We know not why, unless the work, being imperfect as to the carth until the third day, and not complete as to heaven till the fourth day, the blessing waited for the delicately formed plant and the cheerful sun, when it would be well seen that God filled the earth with the fruit of His works, and covered Himself with light as with a garment. The sacred narrative of the earth's early state would naturally have that meaning applied to it by early and unscientific men, which the appearance of things suggested. Being told of a firmament dividing the waters above from the waters below, they possibly thought of a transparent floor in the skies, on which the upper waters rested, and may have pictured "the earth standing in the centre of a hollow crystal sphere, in which the stars were fixed like golden nails;" but observation and reason soon showed that rain could not descend through such a floor, and that the waters above the firmament were, as St. Augustine thought, in a state of Ancient Poetic Phrases. 169 vapour. Even a rustic would not think that the sky was a solid vault, nor call the stars bright nails fixed in to hold it up. The Hebrew people saw birds soar aloft, and the moon cross the sky; the intelligent knew of the connection between cloud and rain; none but the dullest would imagine that the sky was solid. The phrases" windows of heaven" (Gen. vii. 11), “foundations" (2 Sam. xxii. 8), "pillars" (Job xxvi. 11), "doors" (Ps. lxxviii. 23), have led unpoetic persons to imagine that Moses and the Hebrews really did think of the firmament as a solid vault in which fowls fly and winds blow. The ancient sages were not so simple. These poetic expressions, and others like that of Job (xxxvii. 18), "The sky, which is strong and as a molten looking-glass," are sometimes a contrast, sometimes a comparison. Job meant that the sky, though rare, fine, and spread out, is established and strong as metal. Ancient worthies had a better understanding of things than our modern conceit gives them credit for. They knew that the earth was hung upon nothing (Job xxvi. 7), and when they spoke of it as firm and not to be moved, it was in the sense of being sustained by the Almighty. They knew of the sea as a fountain to water the whole earth (Amos ix. 6); of the rivers returning to it again (Eccl. i. 7); of the firmament as an expanse; of light existing apart from the sun; and of stars innumerable, or, as an astronomer would say “Like grains of sand on the sea-shore." They accounted the present as but a momentary space in the interval between two eternities, earning blessings or cursings for ever according to man's efforts to do good and hate evil. They thought of the future as a home of rest from evil, a place of everlasting beauty, in which the whole creation should praise God. They saw living things and men in à vast procession, not urged by blind force, but guided by Divine Intelligence to higher activities and more glorious spheres. The knowledge of ancient sages was indeed wonderful. We are beginning to be conscious of it. For some time before the age of Sir Isaac Newton, the physical system commonly accepted was the Ptolemaic; but Newton proved that it was erroneous, and demonstrated the truth of the Copernican, which had been propounded by Pythagoras, two thousand years before. According to that system, the sun is the centre around which the planets and satellites revolve. This one example, chosen from many that might be given, is proof that those who lived in the early days of mankind possessed wisdom that often pierced the outward form and natural aspect of things to discern inner meaning and power. Inspired men regarded God as the One who bound up the thick clouds with strength, that the waters might not rend them (Job xxvi. 8); who apportioned the atmosphere, made a balance for the winds, a decree for the rain, and a path for the lightning (Job xxviii. 24-27). Solomon, or whosoever it was that wrote in his name, had understanding of the wind going toward the south, the turning about unto the north, and why the fulness of the sea was not over-fulness (Eccl. i. 6, 7). Science, since those old-world days, has weighed the wind, traced its path whirling in continual currents. We know that an atmospheric pressure of fifteen tons is on every man, and that, if it were not so, our lungs could not well use the air. It is a physical fact, that the air of the firmament, by a secret process, raises and suspends water, eight hundred times heavier than itself; and in quantity so vast that if it descended at once upon the earth, the world would be deluged; and by ascent so graduated that the earth is not unduly parched, nor animal nor vegetable destroyed. Those ancients were not fools, and, great as is the advance of modern science, no man has exceeded Solomon in wisdom, or Job in philosophy, or convinced Moses of folly for saying, “God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament." The genius of ancient worthies was not less marvellous than their knowledge. There were gleams of spirit and touches of genius which remind us of the best and purest portions of the classic page, which indeed they surpass. As a literary production, there is nothing in any ancient or modern book equal in simplicity, or beauty, or grandeur, to the account by Moses of creation, which seems purposely written for our own time. The Book of Job cannot be styled less than perfect, the Psalms are matchless, Isaiah sublime. The Genius of Ancient Worthies. 171 whole Bible remains ever fresh by the life that is in it; creates new interest in men of every age, not only by the letter, but specially by the spirit. It is adapted to the various stages of history, and illustrates the great principles of moral government. It possesses a wider influence than when originally spoken, and delights us with the charm of novelty as were it newly found. It is rendered more romantic than the romance thrown into it by Divinity of origin, through the sacred subduing sadness which pervades it, and by the high art of embalming the spirit, the thought, the laws, the life of a whole nation. The words of graceful imagery with which patriarchs and prophets describe God and His works, the ruin of beauty and glory by sin, are in the power of true worldpoets. Sometimes the form of language is child-like, and the figures express our commonest notions; but that childlike body is of excellent form, takes hold of our life, wins homage and love from the purest and wisest of mankind. The representation of perfection and beauty in Divinity is entrancing, and our delight deepens into awe. Sacred anger is aroused as, before our very eyes, a malignant hand, by a few wickedly skilful dark strokes, turns favour into disfavour; that the purpose of God and the image of man may be distorted and defaced. The two hemispheres of representationDivine holiness and Satanic iniquity-are then separated by a firmament of mercy. Beneath that firmament are forgiveness and sanctification; above that firmament, ascending to the height, are promises of regeneration to the earth, of glorification to men, the likeness of a throne, and upon the throne the appearance of a man (Ezek. i. 26). "Aye, gloriously thou standest there, Beautiful, boundless firmament ! With thy bright vault and sapphire wall, William Cullen Bryant. Beware of regarding the primeval waters as existing in their present state. They were full of mineral and earthy ingredients, surcharged with gaseous elements; rather a molten mass of fluid and gaseous condition than water, as seen now, cooled down and formed by the chemical affinity of oxygen and hydrogen. Thick steam, arising from this heated water and the other matters held in solution, rendered the circumference of the earth moist and cloudy. By some inscrutable operation, vapours and gaseous elements were more and more separated and differentiated from mineral parts-made to rise out of the water, and expanded to become constituents of the present life-sustaining atmosphere. Whatever it was, there seems to have been a power which decomposed the fluid matter or water, and formed the atmosphere which evaporated the surplus vapour,-a power of attraction and contraction on one hand, a power of repulsion and expansion on the other. This power, by a peculiar law, the diffusion principle, abstracted the elements of the firmament from submission to the universal law of gravity, enabled the watery vapour to penetrate it with perfect freedom, and to become a wellspring of life in the atmospheric streams surrounding our earth. The words "Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters," express the relative degrees of expansion. Those under the firmament are of less expansive principle; those above the firmament, being of more subtile or higher expansive principle, incline to ascend. Thus a division, ever varying in extent and degree, is established by means of the atmosphere. In speaking of the dew-point temperature, we mean the temperature of the air at which the invisible vapour of water existing in it at the time would saturate it if the air were cooled down. The higher the temperature of the air, the greater the quantity of invisible vapour of water it will hold. The amount of vapour which the air will hold increases in a greater ratio than the temperature. Air at 80° will hold more than double the amount of vapour it would hold at 40°. If anything cools down the air below dew-point, part of the vapour is condensed, changed into water, becomes visible as mist or cloud. When a glass of cold water is brought into a room, we often see dew deposited upon the surface of the glass; this is caused by the water in the glass (and, as a consequence, the glass itself) being below the temperature of the |