the same family a different language was given; and if it was usual among the Hebrews for the son always to pursue the profession of his father, the exercise of the various trades was consigned to various families not interfering with each other's avocations. This very custom was the chief source instrumental to the abandonment of building Babel. The occupations of the different families being perfectly distinct, and confined to the respective members of each family, those of no other family interfered; and as separate languages were only given to the families, not to the individuals, the workmen of different families could not be made to understand each other, although all the workmen of the same trade and family well could. This knowledge, however, could, under present circumstances, be productive of no benefit.

And that unfinished tower of Babel (or 'confusion') long endured, a monument of human daring, and a satire on human pride. It spoke, with the solemnity of a voice from the tomb, of the nothingness of man. It remained a burlesque on the weakness and wickedness of the infidel. Herodotus assures us, that the building was the eighth part of an English mile long, and the

eighth part of an English mile

broad; — and Strabo fixes the height, likewise, at the eighth part of an English mile, that is, 660 feet; thus exceeding in height the loftiest of the Egyptian pyramids by not less than 179 feet. Its thickness was then proportionably commensurate with its height; and this prodigious work was rendered (as it were) water-proof, by the qualities of the bitumen, which served for mortar. Upon the page of Scripture History it must for ever stand equally as a pledge for the foiled obstinacy of man, and for the omnipotence of God.

When we reflect that the confusion of tongues, and the dispersion of Noah's descendants, occurred at no greater distance of time from the disasters of the deluge, than one hundred and one years, a reasonable and accountable being seems almost lost in wonder how that tremendous chastisement could possibly have been effaced in so short a time. We are actually horror-struck at the rapidly returning profligacy of man, undisciplined by calamity, and untutored by experience. The terrible infliction of punishment appears to have left behind on their minds no more durable impression than we observe to be made on the sand of a sea-shore by the furrow of a present wave,

and which the next succeeding wave washes away, as though no vestige of it had ever been there. Judging from ordinary rules, we might have reckoned, that the memory of such a signal retribution would have operated with a salutary fidelity, and been seldom absent from their thoughts; that they would have listened to the comments of the aged on its details, and imprinted its importance upon the minds of the young. But man, original man, wears aloft the plume of his profligacy, and is sometimes an enigma even to himself. Sickness strikes him down to his bed, and its severities make him for the instant more than a superficial saint. Upon that couch of review, of regret, of repentance, and remorse, he believes that he hates his olden crimes, and is very sure that he resolves to forsake them. He wonders at the infatuation of his former follies, and criticizes himself with a rigid censorship. The crisis of his complaint, however, is past, and the faint breath of hope, at length, settles on his heart. Gradually the tint of health plays upon his cheek, and lightens in his eye, and braces his frame. Still his resolution appears immutable, his sin grievous, and his duty plain and pressing. But he goes abroad; the breeze of life again blows for him; the vanity of

the world is in full swing before him; and full soon he forgets the couch of sickness, the sanctuary of reformation. As the past, so is to be the future. If he feel any thing like peace, it is a false peace, resembling the dead quiet of carcasses in a buryingground. It is a hollow and a dark peace, where sunshine never enters either to soothe or charm! Just such is man, too, amidst the imminent perils and hair-breadth escapes of life. Hardly has he surmounted, or been rescued from them, before they fade from his remembrance. But yet recurring occasions will very often refresh the colours of such incidents, or, at all events, sufficiently retouch them to hinder them from falling into utter oblivion. However, in the instance now before us, the visitation had been without a parallel either in its magnitude or mortality. It ought to have been indented in their hearts, and in the hearts of their remotest posterity. This was the range of no isolated ravages, no limited ruin. This was not the conflict of man with man, or of kingdom against kingdom. The mighty history was the rebellion of earth against heaven - of the ungrateful creature against the beneficent Creator. Here were brought in collision no mortal weapons here was opposed no mortal artillery. At once

the magazines of supernal wrath poured from the firmament, and the deeps of the desolating ocean rushed on to join battle. All that drew the breath of life (except the patriarch's family) sunk in the waters; and their pomp and pride were swept over by the oozes of the deep. Could these be forgotten, or were they but feigned to be forgotten, by the immediate family of those who were preserved? It matters not which, since their conduct was alike at variance with loyalty and obedience. It was in vain that the commands of the Supreme were issued, but in reference to their benefit and happiness. Had these been positively designed for no other end than to entail pain and misery, a more decided opposition could not have been offered. Their Lord and Benefactor ordered colonies to be dispatched to people the different regions of the earth, and extend the cultivation of the arts of peace, by which desirable event the mother country might extend her knowledge, encrease her comforts, and consolidate her power. Besides, prudence might have shown that this object must be as much a matter of necessity as of choice. It was incumbent on their rulers eagerly to embrace the divine suggestions of giving vent to a superabundant population, and thus avoid