Another distinguishing mark of Hebrew poetry is the _vivid consciousness of God's presence_ by which it is pervaded. In this respect it runs entirely parallel with Hebrew history. It has already been remarked (Ch. 20, No. 1) that Hebrew history differs widely from all other historical writings in its habit of looking at the course of human events from the Divine side, rather than the human; that while secular history is mainly occupied with the endless details of human combinations and alliances, and the progress of material civilization, the historical books of the Old Testament unfold to us with wonderful clearness God's presence and power as shaping the course of human events in the interest of his great plan of redemption. Take, for example, that small section of Hebrew history comprehended under the title, _Affinity with Ahab_. No Christian can read it without feelings of holy awe, for it is radiant throughout with the presence of that righteous God who renders to every man according to his works, and visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generation. In it the retributive justice of God shines forth, like the lightning, from one end of heaven to the other. Just so is Hebrew poetry also filled with the presence and glory of God. When the Hebrew bard sweeps his lyre, all nature gives signs of her Maker's presence. The heavens rejoice before him, the earth is glad, the sea roars, the mountains and hills break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field clap their hands. He looks on the earth, and it trembles; he touches the hills, and they smoke. Nor less conspicuous is his presence in providence and in the human soul. He is seen in awful majesty high above the tumult of the nations, directing their movements to the accomplishment of his own infinitely wise purposes; making the wrath of man to praise him, and restraining the remainder of it. Meanwhile his presence shines in the believer's soul, like the sun in his strength, filling it with strength, light, and gladness. In a word, over the whole domain of Hebrew poesy, whether its theme be God or nature or human society or the human spirit, is heard continually the solemn cry of the seraphim: "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory."