Chapter VIII (1)

AND when he had opened the [259]seventh seal, there was
silence in heaven about the space of half an hour.

1. _And when he had opened the seventh seal._ See Notes on ch. v. 1. ¶ _There was silence in heaven._ The whole scene of the vision is laid in heaven (ch. iv.), and John represents things as they seem to be passing there. The meaning here is, that on the opening of this seal, instead of voices, thunderings, tempests, as perhaps was expected from the character of the sixth seal (ch. vi. 12, seq.), and which seemed only to have been suspended for a time (ch. vii.), there was an awful stillness, as if all heaven was reverently waiting for the development. Of course this is a symbolical representation, and is designed not to represent a pause in the events themselves, but only the impressive and fearful nature of the events which are now to be disclosed. ¶ _About the space of half an hour._ He did not profess to {191} designate the time exactly. It was a brief period――yet a period which in such circumstances would appear to be long――_about_ half an hour. The word here used――ἡμιώριον――does not occur elsewhere in the New Testament. It is correctly rendered _half an hour_; and as the day was divided into twelve parts from the rising to the setting of the sun, the time designated would not vary much from half an hour with us. Of course, therefore, this denotes a brief period. In a state, however, of anxious suspense, the moments would seem to move slowly; and to see the exact force of this, we are to reflect on the scenes represented――the successive opening of seals disclosing most important events――increasing in interest as each new one was opened; the course of events which seemed to be leading to the consummation of all things, arrested after the opening of the sixth seal; and now the last in the series to be opened, disclosing what the affairs of the world would be at the consummation of all things. John looks on this; and in this state of suspense the half hour may have seemed an age. We are not, of course, to suppose that the silence in heaven is produced by the _character_ of the events which are now to follow――for they are as yet unknown. It is caused by what, from the nature of the previous disclosures, was naturally apprehended, and by the fact that this is the last of the series――the finishing of the mysterious volume. This seems to me to be the obvious interpretation of this passage, though there has been here, as in other parts of the book of Revelation, a great variety of opinion as to the meaning. Those who suppose that the whole book consists of a _triple series_ of visions designed to prefigure future events, parallel with each other, and each leading to the consummation of all things――the series embracing the seals, the trumpets, and the vials, each seven in number――regard this as the proper ending of the first of this series, and suppose that we have on the opening of the seventh seal the beginning of a new symbolical representation, going over the same ground, under the representations of the trumpets, in a new aspect or point of view. Eichhorn and Rosenmüller suppose that the silence introduced by the apostle is merely for effect, and that, therefore, it is without any special signification. Grotius applies the whole representation to the destruction of Jerusalem, and supposes that the silence in heaven refers to the restraining of the winds referred to in ch. vii. 1――the wrath in respect to the city, which was now suspended for a short time. Professor Stuart also refers it to the destruction of Jerusalem, and supposes that the seven trumpets refer to seven gradations in the series of judgments that were coming upon the persecutors of the church. Mr. Daubuz regards the silence here referred to as a symbol of the liberty granted to the church in the time of Constantine; Vitringa interprets it of the peace of the millennium which is to succeed the overthrow of the beast and the false prophet; Dean Woodhouse and Mr. Cunninghame regard it as the termination of the series of events which the former seals denote, and the commencement of a new train of revelations; Mr. Elliott, as the suspension of the winds during the sealing of the servants of God; Mr. Lord, as the period of repose which intervened between the close of the persecution by Diocletian and Galerius, in 311, and the commencement, near the close of that year, of the civil wars by which Constantine the Great was elevated to the imperial throne. It will be seen at once how arbitrary and unsatisfactory most of those interpretations are, and how far from harmony expositors have been as to the meaning of this symbol. The most simple and obvious interpretation is likely to be the true one; and that is, as above suggested, that it refers to silence in heaven as expressive of the fearful anticipation felt on opening the last seal that was to close the series, and to wind up the affairs of the church and the world. Nothing would be more natural than such a state of solemn awe on such an occasion; nothing would introduce the opening of the seal in a more impressive manner; nothing would more naturally express the anxiety of the church, the probable feelings of the pious on the opening of these successive seals, than the representation that incense, accompanied with their prayers, was continually offered in heaven.

{192} 2 And I saw the seven angels which [260]stood before God;
and to them were given seven [261]trumpets.

2. _And I saw the seven angels which stood before God._ Professor Stuart supposes that by these angels are meant the “presence-angels” which he understands to be referred to, in ch. i. 4, by the “seven spirits which are before the throne.” If, however, the interpretation of that passage above proposed, that it refers to the Holy Spirit, with reference to his multiplied agency and operations, be correct, then we must seek for another application of the phrase here. The only difficulty in applying it arises from the use of the article――“_the_ seven angels”――τοὺς――as if they were angels already referred to; and as there has been no previous mention of “_seven_ angels,” unless it be in the phrase “the seven spirits which are before the throne,” in ch. i. 4, it is argued that this must have been such a reference. But this interpretation is not absolutely necessary. John might use this language either because the angels had been spoken of before; or because it would be sufficiently understood, from the common use of language, who would be referred to――as we now might speak of “_the seven_ members of the cabinet of the United States,” or “_the_ thirty-one governors of the states of the Union,” though they had not been particularly mentioned; or he might speak of them as just then disclosed to his view, and because his meaning would be sufficiently definite by the circumstances which were to follow――their agency in blowing the trumpets. It would be entirely in accordance with the usage of the article for one to say that he saw an army, and _the_ commander-in-chief, and _the_ four staff-officers, and _the_ five bands of music, and _the_ six companies of sappers and miners, &c. It is not absolutely necessary, therefore, to suppose that these angels had been before referred to. There is, indeed, in the use of the phrase “which stood before God,” the idea that they are to be regarded as permanently standing there, or that that is their proper place――as if they were angels who were particularly designated to this high service. Comp. Lu. i. 19: “I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God.” If this idea is involved in the phrase, then there is a sufficient reason why the article is used, though they had not before been mentioned. ¶ _And to them were given seven trumpets._ One to each. By whom the trumpets were given is not said. It may be supposed to have been done by Him who sat on the throne. Trumpets were used then, as now, for various purposes; to summon an assembly; to muster the hosts of battle; to inspirit and animate troops in conflict. Here they are given to announce a series of important events producing great changes in the world――as if God summoned and led on his hosts to accomplish his designs.

3 And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a
golden censer; and there was given unto him much incense, that
he should [262]offer _it_ with the [263]prayers of all saints
upon the [264]golden altar which was before the throne.

3. _And another angel came._ Who this angel was is not mentioned, nor have we any means of determining. Of course a great variety of opinion has been entertained on the subject (see Poole’s _Synopsis_)――some referring it to angels in general; others to the ministry of the church; others to Constantine; others to Michael; and many others to the Lord Jesus. All that we know is, that it was an _angel_ who thus appeared, and there is nothing inconsistent in the supposition that anyone of the angels in heaven may have been appointed to perform what is here represented. The design seems to be, to represent the prayers of the saints as ascending in the anticipation of the approaching series of wonders in the world――and there would be a beautiful propriety in representing them as offered by an angel, feeling a deep interest in the church, and ministering in behalf of the saints. ¶ _And stood at the altar._ In heaven――represented as a temple, with an altar, and with the usual array of things employed in the worship of God. The altar was the appropriate place for him to stand when about to offer the prayers of the saints――for that is the place where the worshipper stood under the ancient dispensation. Comp. Notes on Mat. v. 23, 24; Lu. i. 11. In the latter place an angel is represented as appearing to Zacharias “on the right side of the altar of incense.” ¶ _Having a golden censer._ The _fire-pan_, made for the purpose of carrying fire, on which to burn incense in time of worship. See it described and illustrated in the Notes on He. ix. 4. There {193} seems reason to suppose that the incense that was offered in the ancient worship was designed to be emblematic of the prayers of saints, for it was the custom for worshippers to be engaged in prayer at the time the incense was offered by the priest. See Lu. i. 10. ¶ _And there was given unto him much incense._ See Notes on Lu. i. 9. A large quantity was here given to him, because the occasion was one on which many prayers might be expected to be offered. ¶ _That he should offer |it| with the prayers._ Marg., “_add |it| to_.” Gr., “that he should _give_ it with”――δώσῃ. The idea is plain, that, when the prayers of the saints ascended, he would also burn the incense, that it might go up at the same moment, and be emblematic of them. Comp. Notes on ch. v. 8. ¶ _Of all saints._ Of all who are holy; of all who are the children of God. The idea seems to be, that, at this time, all the saints would unite in calling on God, and in deprecating his wrath. As the events which were about to occur were a matter of common interest to the people of God, it was to be supposed that they would unite in common supplication. ¶ _Upon the golden altar._ The altar of incense. This in the tabernacle and in the temple was overlaid with gold. ¶ _Which was before the throne._ This is represented as a temple-service, and the altar of incense is, with propriety, placed before his seat or throne, as it was in the tabernacle and temple. In the temple, God is represented as occupying the mercy-seat in the holy of holies, and the altar of incense is in the holy place before that. See the description of the temple in the Notes on Mat. xxi. 12.

4 And the smoke of the [265]incense, _which came_ with the
prayers of the saints, ascended up before God out of the
angel’s hand.

4. _And the smoke of the incense_, &c. The smoke caused by the burning incense. John, as he saw this, naturally interpreted it of the prayers of the saints. The meaning of the whole symbol, thus explained, is that, at the time referred to, the anxiety of the church in regard to the events which were about to occur would naturally lead to much prayer. It is not necessary to attempt to verify this by any distinct historical facts, for no one can doubt that, in a time of such impending calamities, the church would be earnestly engaged in devotion. Such has always been the case in times of danger; and it may always be assumed to be true, that when danger threatens, whether it be to the church at large or to an individual Christian, there will be a resort to the throne of grace.

5 And the angel took the censer, and filled it with fire
of the altar, and cast _it_ [266]into the earth: and there
were [267]voices, and thunderings, and lightnings, and an
[268]earthquake.

5. _And the angel took the censer._ Ver. 3. This is a new symbol, designed to furnish a new representation of future events. By the former it had been shown that there would be much prayer offered; by this it is designed to show that, notwithstanding the prayer that would be offered, great and fearful calamities would come upon the earth. This is symbolized by casting the censer upon the earth, _as if_ the prayers were not heard any longer, or as if prayer were now in vain. ¶ _And filled it with fire of the altar._ An image similar to this occurs in Eze. x. 2, where the man clothed in linen is commanded to go between the wheels under the cherub, and fill his hands with coals of fire from between the cherubims, and to scatter them over the city as a symbol of its destruction. Here the coals are taken, evidently, from the altar of sacrifice. Comp. Notes on Is. vi. 1. On these coals no incense was placed, but they were thrown at once to the earth. The new emblem, therefore, is the taking of coals, and scattering them abroad as a symbol of the destruction that was about to ensue. ¶ _And cast it into the earth._ Marg., _upon_. The margin expresses undoubtedly the meaning. The symbol, therefore, properly denoted that fearful calamities were about to come upon the earth. Even the prayers of saints did not prevail to turn them away, and now the symbol of the scattered coals indicated that terrible judgments were about to come upon the world. ¶ _And there were voices._ Sounds, noises. See Notes on ch. iv. 5. The _order_ is not the same here as there, but lightnings, thunderings, and voices are mentioned in both. {194} ¶ _And an earthquake._ Ch. vi. 12. This is a symbol of commotion. It is not necessary to look for a literal fulfilment of it, any more than it is for literal “voices,” “lightnings,” or “thunderings.”

6 And the seven angels which had the seven trumpets prepared
themselves to sound.

6. _And the seven angels which had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound._ Ver. 7. Evidently in succession, perhaps by arranging themselves in the order in which they were to sound. The way is now prepared for the sounding of the trumpets, and for the fearful commotions and changes which would be indicated by that. The last seal is opened; heaven stands in suspense to know what is to be disclosed; the saints, filled with solicitude, have offered their prayers; the censer of coals has been cast to the earth, as if these judgments could be no longer stayed by prayer; and the angels prepare to sound the trumpets indicative of what is to occur.

7 The first angel sounded, and [269]there followed hail and
fire mingled with blood, and they were cast upon the earth:
and the third part of [270]trees was burnt up, and all green
grass was burnt up.

7. _The first angel sounded._ The first in order, and indicating the first in the series of events that were to follow. ¶ _And there followed hail._ Hail is usually a symbol of the divine vengeance, as it has often been employed to accomplish the divine purposes of punishment. Thus in Ex. ix. 23, “And the Lord sent thunder and hail, and the fire ran along the ground; and the Lord rained hail upon the land of Egypt.” So in Ps. cv. 32, referring to the plagues upon Egypt, it is said, “He gave them hail for rain, and flaming fire in their land.” So again, Ps. lxxviii. 48, “He gave up their cattle also to the hail, and their flocks to hot thunderbolts.” As early as the time of Job hail was understood to be an emblem of the divine displeasure, and an instrument in inflicting punishment:

“Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow,
Or hast thou seen the treasure of the hail?
Which I have reserved against _the time of trouble_,
Against _the day of battle and war_?”
Job xxxviii. 22, 23.

So also, the same image is used in Ps. xviii. 13;

“The Lord also thundered in the heaven,
And the Most High gave forth his voice,
Hailstones and coals of fire.”

Comp. Hag., ch. ii. 17. The destruction of the Assyrian army, it is said, would be accomplished in the same way, Is. xxx. 30. Comp. Eze. xiii. 11; xxxviii. 22. ¶ _And fire._ Lightning. This also is an instrument and an emblem of destruction. ¶ _Mingled with blood._ By _blood_ “we must naturally understand,” says Professor Stuart, “in this case, a shower of coloured rain; that is, rain of a rubidinous aspect, an occurrence which is known sometimes to take place, and which, like falling stars; eclipses, &c., was viewed with terror by the ancients, because it was supposed to be indicative of blood that was to be shed.” The appearance, doubtless, was that of a red shower, apparently of _hail_, or snow――for _rain_ is not mentioned. It is not a _rain_-storm, it is a _hail_-storm that is the image here; and the image is that of a driving hail-storm, where the lightnings flashed, and where there was the intermingling of a reddish substance that resembled blood, and that was an undoubted symbol of blood that was to be shed. I do not know that there is red _rain_, or red _hail_, but red _snow_ is not very uncommon; and the image here would be complete if we suppose that there was an intermingling of red snow in the driving tempest. This species of snow was found by Captain Ross at Baffin’s Bay on the 17th of August, 1819. The mountains that were dyed with the snow were about eight miles long, and six hundred feet high. The red colour reached to the ground in many places ten or twelve feet deep, and continued for a great length of time. Although red snow had not until this attracted much notice, yet it had been long before observed in Alpine countries. Saussure discovered it on Mount St. Bernard in 1778. Ramond found it on the Pyrenees; and Summerfield discovered it in Norway. “In 1818 red snow fell on the Italian Alps and Apennines. In March, 1808, the whole country about Cadore, Belluno, and Feltri was covered with a red-coloured snow to the depth of six and a half feet; but a white snow had fallen both before and after it, the red formed a stratum in the middle of the white. At the same time a similar fall took place in the mountains of the Valteline, Brescia, Carinthia, and Tyrol” (_Edin. Encyclo._ art. “Snow”). These facts show that {195} what is referred to here in the symbol might possibly occur. Such a symbol would be properly expressive of blood and carnage. ¶ _And they were cast upon the earth._ The hail, the fire, and the blood――denoting that the fulfilment of this was to be _on the earth_. ¶ _And the third part of trees was burnt up._ By the fire that came down with the hail and the blood. ¶ _And all green grass was burnt up._ Wherever this lighted on the earth. The meaning would seem to be, that wherever this tempest beat the effect was to destroy a third part――that is, a large portion of the _trees_, and to consume _all_ the grass. A portion of the trees――strong and mighty――would stand against it; but that which was so tender as grass is, would be consumed. The sense does not seem to be that the tempest would be confined to a third part of the world, and destroy _all_ the trees and the grass _there_; but that it would be a sweeping and general tempest, and that wherever it spread it would prostrate a third part of the trees and consume all the grass. Thus understood, it would seem to mean, that in reference to those things in the world which were firm and established like _trees_, it would not sweep them _wholly_ away, though it would make great desolation; but in reference to those which were delicate and feeble――like grass――it would sweep them wholly away.――This would not be an inapt description of the ordinary effects of invasion in time of war. A few of those things which seem most firm and established in society――like trees in a forest――weather out the storm; while the gentle virtues, the domestic enjoyments, the arts of peace, like tender grass, are wholly destroyed. The fulfilment of this we are undoubtedly to expect to find in the terrors of invasion; the evils of war; the effusion of blood; the march of armies. So far as the language is concerned, the symbol would apply to _any_ hostile invasion; but in pursuing the exposition on the principles on which we have thus far conducted it, we are to look for the fulfilment in one or more of those invasions of the northern hordes that preceded the downfall of the Roman empire and that contributed to it.――In the “Analysis” of the chapter, some reasons were given why these four trumpet signals were placed together, as pertaining to a series of events of the same general character, and as distinguished from those which were to follow. The natural place which they occupy, or the events which we should suppose, from the views taken above of the first six seals, would be represented, would be the successive invasions of the northern hordes which ultimately accomplished the overthrow of the Roman empire. There are _four_ of these “trumpets,” and it would be a matter of inquiry whether there were _four_ events of sufficient distinctness that would mark these invasions, or that would constitute _periods_ or _epochs_ in the destruction of the Roman power. At this point in writing, I looked on a chart of history, composed with no reference to this prophecy, and found a singular and unexpected prominence given to _four_ such events extending from the first invasion of the Goths and Vandals at the beginning of the fifth century, to the fall of the Western empire, A.D. 476. The first was the invasion of Alaric, king of the Goths, A.D. 410; the second was the invasion of Attila, king of the Huns, “scourge of God,” A.D. 447; a third was the sack of Rome by Genseric, king of the Vandals, A.D. 455; and the fourth, resulting in the final conquest of Rome, was that of Odoacer, king of the Heruli, who assumed the title of King of Italy, A.D. 476. We shall see, however, on a closer examination, that although two of these――Attila and Genseric――were, during a part of their career, contemporary, yet the most prominent place is due to Genseric in the events that attended the downfall of the empire, and that the second trumpet probably related to him; the third to Attila. These were, beyond doubt, four great periods or events attending the fall of the Roman empire, which synchronize with the period before us. If, therefore, we regard the opening of the sixth seal as denoting the threatening aspect of these invading powers――the gathering of the dark cloud that hovered over the borders of the empire, and the consternation produced by that approaching storm; and if we regard the transactions in the seventh chapter――the holding of the winds in check, and the sealing of the chosen of God――as denoting the _suspension_ of the impending {196} judgments in order that a work might be done to save the church, and as referring to the divine interposition in behalf of the church; then the appropriate place of these four trumpets, under the seventh seal, will be when that delayed and restrained storm burst in successive blasts upon different parts of the empire――the successive invasions which were so prominent in the overthrow of that vast power. History marks four of these events――four heavy blows――four sweepings of the tempest and the storm――under Alaric, Genseric, Attila, and Odoacer, whose movements could not be better symbolized than by these successive blasts of the trumpet.

The first of these is the invasion of Alaric; and the inquiry now is, whether his invasion is such as would be properly symbolized by the first trumpet. In illustrating this, it will be proper to notice some of the movements of Alaric, and the alarm consequent on his invasion of the empire; and then to inquire how far this corresponds with the images employed in the description of the first trumpet. For these illustrations I shall be indebted mainly to Mr. Gibbon. Alaric, the Goth, was at first employed in the service of the emperor Theodosius, in his attempt to oppose the usurper Arbogastes, after the murder of Valentinian, emperor of the West. Theodosius, in order to oppose the usurper, employed, among others, numerous barbarians――Iberians, Arabs, and Goths. One of them was Alaric, who, to use the language of Mr. Gibbon (ii. 179), “acquired in the school of Theodosius the knowledge of the art of war, which he afterwards so fatally exerted for the destruction of Rome,” A.D. 392‒394. After the death of Theodosius (A.D. 395) the Goths revolted from the Roman power, and Alaric, who had been disappointed in his expectations of being raised to the command of the Roman armies, became their leader (_Decline and Fall_, ii. 213). “That renowned leader was descended from the noble race of the Balti; which yielded only to the royal dignity of the Amali; he had solicited the command of the Roman armies; and the imperial court provoked him to demonstrate the folly of their refusal, and the importance of their loss. In the midst of a divided court and a discontented people the emperor Arcadius was terrified by the aspect of the Gothic arms,” &c. Alaric then invaded and conquered Greece, laying it waste in his progress, until he reached Athens, ii. 214, 215. “The fertile fields of Phocis and Bœotia were instantly covered by a deluge of barbarians, who massacred the males of age to bear arms, and drove away the beautiful females, with the spoil and cattle of the flaming villages.” Alaric then concluded a treaty with Theodosius, the emperor of the East (ii. 216); was made master-general of Eastern Illyricum, and created a magistrate (ii. 217); soon united under his command the barbarous nations that had made the invasion, and was solemnly declared to be the king of the Visigoths, ii. 217. “Armed with this double power, seated on the verge of two empires, he alternately sold his deceitful promises to the courts of Arcadius and Honorius, till he declared and executed his purpose of invading the dominions of the West. The provinces of Europe which belonged to the Eastern empire were already exhausted; those of Asia were inaccessible; and the strength of Constantinople had resisted his attack. But he was tempted by the beauty, the wealth, and the fame of Italy, which he had twice visited; and he secretly aspired to plant the Gothic standard on the walls of Rome; and to enrich his army with the accumulated spoils of three hundred triumphs,” ii. 217, 218. In describing his march to the Danube, and his progress towards Italy, having increased his army with a large number of barbarians, Mr. Gibbon uses the remarkable language expressive of the general consternation, already quoted in the description of the sixth seal. Alaric approached rapidly towards the imperial city, resolved to “conquer or die before the gates of Rome.” But he was checked by Stilicho, and compelled to make peace, and retired (_Decline and Fall_, ii. 222), and the threatening storm was for a time suspended. See Notes on ch. vii. 1, seq. So great was the consternation, however, that the Roman court, which then had its seat at Milan, thought it necessary to remove to a safer place, and became fixed at Ravenna, ii. 224. This calm, secured by the retreat of Alaric, was, however, of short continuance. In A.D. 408 he again invaded Italy in a more successful manner, attacked the capital, and more than once pillaged Rome. The following facts, for which I am indebted to Mr. Gibbon, will illustrate the progress {197} of the events, and the effects of this blast of the “first trumpet” in the series that announced the destruction of the Western empire:――

(a) The effect, on the destiny of the empire, of removing the Roman court to Ravenna from the dread of the Goths. As early as A.D. 303 the court of the emperor of the West was, for the most part, established at Milan. For some time before, the “sovereignty of the capital was gradually annihilated by the extent of conquest,” and the emperors were required to be long absent from Rome on the frontiers, until in the time of Diocletian and Maximian the seat of government was fixed at Milan, “whose situation at the foot of the Alps appeared far more convenient than that of Rome for the important purpose of watching the motions of the barbarians of Germany” (Gibbon, i. 213). “The life of Diocletian and Maximian was a life of action, and a considerable portion of it was spent in camps, or in their long and frequent marches; but whenever the public business allowed them any relaxation, they seem to have retired with pleasure to their favourite residences of Nicomedia and Milan. Till Diocletian, in the twentieth year of his reign, celebrated his Roman triumph, it is extremely doubtful whether he ever visited the ancient capital of the empire” (Gibbon, i. 214). From this place the court was driven away, by the dread of the northern barbarians, to Ravenna, a safer place, which thenceforward became the seat of government, while Italy was ravaged by the northern hordes, and while Rome was besieged and pillaged. Mr. Gibbon, under date of A.D. 404, says, “The recent danger to which the person of the emperor had been exposed in the defenceless palace of Milan [from Alaric and the Goths] urged him to seek a retreat in some inaccessible fortress in Italy, where he might securely remain, while the open country was covered by a deluge of barbarians” (vol. ii. p. 224). He then proceeds to describe the situation of Ravenna, and the removal of the court thither, and then adds (p. 225), “The fears of Honorius were not without foundation, nor were his precautions without effect. While Italy rejoiced in her deliverance from the Goths, a furious tempest was excited among the nations of Germany, who yielded to the irresistible impulse that appears to have been gradually communicated from the eastern extremity of the continent of Asia.” That mighty movement of the Huns is then described, as the storm was preparing to burst upon the Roman empire, ii. 225. The agitation and the removal of the Roman government were events not inappropriate to be described by symbols relating to the fall of that mighty power.

(b) The particulars of that invasion, the consternation, the siege of Rome, and the capture and pillage of the imperial city, would confirm the propriety of this application to the symbol of the first trumpet. It would be too long to copy the account――for it extends through many pages of the _History of the Decline and Fall of the Empire_; but a few selected sentences may show the general character of the events, and the propriety of the symbols, on the supposition that they referred to these things. Thus Mr. Gibbon (ii. 226, 227) says, “The correspondence of nations was, in that age, so imperfect and precarious, that the revolutions of the North might escape the knowledge of the court of Ravenna, till the dark cloud which was collected along the coast of the Baltic burst in thunder upon the banks of the Upper Danube. The king of the confederate Germans passed, without resistance, the Alps, the Po, and the Apennines; leaving on the one hand the inaccessible palace of Honorius securely buried among the marshes of Ravenna; and on the other the camp of Stilicho, who had fixed his head-quarters at Ticinum, or Pavia, but who seems to have avoided a decisive battle till he had assembled his distant forces. Many cities of Italy were pillaged or destroyed. The senate and people trembled at their approach within a hundred and eighty miles of Rome; and anxiously compared the danger which they had escaped with the new perils to which they were exposed,” &c. Rome was besieged for the first time by the Goths A.D. 408. Of this siege Mr. Gibbon (ii. 252‒254) has given a graphic description. Among other things, he says, “That unfortunate city gradually experienced the distress of scarcity, and at length the horrid calamities of famine.” “A dark suspicion was entertained, that some desperate wretches fed on the bodies of their fellow-creatures whom they had secretly murdered; and even mothers――such were the horrid conflicts of the {198} two most powerful instincts implanted by nature in the human breast――even mothers are said to have tasted the flesh of their slaughtered infants. Many thousands of the inhabitants of Rome expired in their houses, or in the streets, for want of sustenance; and as the public sepulchres without the walls were in the power of the enemy, the stench which arose from so many putrid and unburied carcasses infected the air; and the miseries of famine were succeeded and aggravated by a pestilential disease.” The first siege was raised by the payment of an enormous ransom (Gibbon, ii. 254). The second siege of Rome by the Goths occurred A.D. 409. _This_ siege was carried on by preventing the supply of provisions, Alaric having seized upon _Ostia_, the Roman port, where the provisions for the capital were deposited. The Romans finally consented to receive a new emperor at the hand of Alaric, and Attalus was appointed in the place of the feeble Honorius, who was then at Ravenna, and who had abandoned the capital. Attalus, an inefficient prince, was soon publicly stripped of the robes of office, and Alaric, enraged at the conduct of the court at Ravenna towards him, turned his wrath a third time on Rome, and laid siege to the city. This occurred A.D. 410. “The king of the Goths, who no longer dissembled his appetite for plunder and revenge, appeared in arms under the walls of the capital; and the trembling senate, without any hope of relief, prepared, by a desperate effort, to delay the ruin of their country. But they were unable to guard against the conspiracy of their slaves and domestics, who, either from birth or interest, were attached to the cause of the enemy. At the hour of midnight the Salarian Gate was silently opened, and the inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of Rome, the imperial city, which had subdued and civilized so considerable a part of mankind, was delivered to the licentious fury of the tribes of Germany and Scythia” (Gibbon, ii. 260).

(c) It is, perhaps, only necessary to add that the invasion of Alaric was in fact but _one_ of the great events that led to the fall of the empire, and that, in announcing that fall, where a succession of events was to occur, it would properly be represented by the blast of one of the trumpets. The expressions employed in the symbol are, indeed, such as might be applied to _any_ invasion of hostile armies, but they are such as _would_ be used if the design were admitted to be to describe the invasion of the Gothic conqueror. For (1) that invasion, as we have seen, would be well represented by the storm of hail and lightning that was seen in vision; (2) by the _red_ colour mingled in that storm――indicative of blood; (3) by the fact that it consumed the trees and the grass. This, as we saw in the exposition, would properly denote the desolation produced by war――applicable, indeed, to _all_ war, but _as_ applicable to the invasion of Alaric as _any_ war that has occurred, and it is such an emblem as would be used if it were admitted that it was the design to represent his invasion. The sweeping storm, prostrating the trees of the forest, is an apt emblem of the evils of war, and, as was remarked in the exposition, no more striking illustration of the consequences of a hostile invasion could be employed than the destruction of the “green grass.” What is here represented in the symbol cannot, perhaps, be better expressed than in the language of Mr. Gibbon, when describing the invasion of the Roman empire under Alaric. Speaking of that invasion, he says――“While the peace of Germany was secured by the attachment of the Franks and the neutrality of the Alemanni, the subjects of Rome, unconscious of their approaching calamities, enjoyed the state of quiet and prosperity which had seldom blessed the frontiers of Gaul. Their flocks and herds were permitted to graze in the pastures of the barbarians; their huntsmen penetrated, without fear or danger, into the darkest recesses of the Hercynian wood. The banks of the Rhine were crowned, like those of the Tiber, with elegant houses and well-cultivated farms; and if a poet descended the river, he might express his doubt on which side was situated the territory of the Romans. This scene of peace and plenty was suddenly changed into a desert; and the prospect of the smoking ruins could alone distinguish the solitude of nature from the desolation of man. The flourishing city of Mentz was surprised and destroyed; and many thousand Christians were inhumanly massacred in the church. Worms perished after a long and obstinate siege; Strasburg, Spires, Rheims, {199} Tournay, Arras, Amiens, experienced the cruel oppression of the German yoke; and the consuming flames of war spread from the banks of the Rhine over the greatest part of the seventeen provinces of Gaul. That rich and extensive country, as far as the ocean, the Alps, and the Pyrenees, was delivered to the barbarians, who drove before them, in a promiscuous crowd, the bishop, the senator, and the virgin, laden with the spoils of their houses and altars,” ii. 230. In reference, also, to the invasion of Alaric, and the particular nature of the desolation depicted under the first trumpet, a remarkable passage which Mr. Gibbon has quoted from Claudian, as describing the effects of the invasion of Alaric, may be here introduced. “The _old_ man,” says he, speaking of Claudian, “who had passed his simple and innocent life in the neighbourhood of Verona, was a stranger to the quarrels both of kings and of bishops; _his_ pleasures, his desires, his knowledge, were confined within the little circle of his paternal farm; and a staff supported his aged steps on the same ground where he had sported in infancy. Yet even this humble and rustic felicity (which Claudian describes with so much truth and feeling) was still exposed to the undistinguishing rage of war. His trees, his old _contemporary_[271] trees, must blaze in the conflagration of the whole country; a detachment of Gothic cavalry must sweep away his cottage and his family; and the power of Alaric could destroy this happiness which he was not able either to taste or to bestow. ‘Fame,’ says the poet, ‘encircling with terror or gloomy wings, proclaimed the march of the barbarian army, and filled Italy with consternation,’” ii. 218. And (4) as to the _extent_ of the calamity, there is also a striking propriety in the language of the symbol as applicable to the invasion of Alaric. I do not suppose, indeed, that it is necessary, in order to find a proper fulfilment of the symbol, to be able to show that exactly one-third part of the empire was made desolate in this way; but it is a sufficient fulfilment if desolation spread over a considerable portion of the Roman world――_as if_ a third part had been destroyed. No one who reads the account of the invasion of Alaric can doubt that it would be an apt description of the ravages of his arms to say that a third part was laid waste. That the desolations produced by Alaric were such as would be _properly_ represented by this symbol may be fully seen by consulting the whole account of that invasion in Gibbon, ii. 213‒266.

8 And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great
[272]mountain burning with fire was [273]cast into the sea:
and the third part of the sea [274]became blood;

8. _And the second angel sounded._ Comp. Notes on ver. 2‒7. This, according to the interpretation proposed above, refers to the second of the four great events which contributed to the downfall of the Roman empire. It will be proper in this case, as in the former, to inquire into the literal meaning of the symbol, and then whether there was any event that corresponded with it. ¶ _And as it were a great mountain._ A _mountain_ is a natural symbol of strength, and hence becomes a symbol of a strong and powerful kingdom; for mountains are not only places of strength in themselves, but they anciently answered the purposes of fortified places, and were the seats of power. Hence they are properly symbols of strong nations. “The stone that smote the image became _a great mountain_, and filled the whole earth,” Da. ii. 35. Comp. Zec. iv. 7; Je. li. 25. We naturally, then, apply this part of the symbol to some strong and mighty nation――not a nation, necessarily, that issued _from_ a mountainous region, but a nation that in strength _resembled_ a mountain. ¶ _Burning with fire._ A mountain in a blaze; that is, with all its woods on fire, or, more probably, a _volcanic_ mountain. There would perhaps be no more sublime image than such a mountain lifted suddenly from its base and thrown into the sea. One of the sublimest parts of the _Paradise Lost_ is that where the poet represents the angels in the great battle in heaven as lifting the mountains――tearing them from their base――and hurling them on the foe:――

“From their foundations heaving to and fro, They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops Uplifting, bore them in their hands,” &c. Book vi. {200} The poet, however, has not, as John has, represented a volcano borne along and cast into the sea. The symbol employed here would denote some fiery, impetuous, destructive power. If used to denote a nation, it would be a nation that was, as it were, burning with the desire of conquest――impetuous, and fierce, and fiery in its assaults――and consuming all in its way. ¶ _Cast into the sea._ The image is very sublime; the scene, should such an event occur, would be awfully grand. As to the fulfilment of this, or the thing that was intended to be represented by it, there cannot be any material doubt. It is not to be understood literally, of course; and the natural application is to some _nation_, or _army_, that has a resemblance in some respects to such a blazing mountain, and the effect of whose march would be like casting such a mountain into the ocean. We naturally look for agitation and commotion, and particularly in reference to the sea, or to some maritime coasts. It is undoubtedly required in the application of this, that we should find its fulfilment in some country lying beyond the sea, or in some sea-coast or maritime country, or in reference to commerce. ¶ _And the third part of the sea became blood._ Resembled blood; became _as red as blood_. The figure here is, that as such a blazing mountain cast into the sea would, by its reflection on the waters, seem to tinge them with red, so there would be something corresponding with this in what was referred to by the symbol. It would be fulfilled if there was a fierce maritime warfare, and if in some desperate naval engagement the sea should be tinged with blood.

9 And the third part of the creatures which were in the sea,
and had life, died; and the third part of the ships were
destroyed.