If the structure of the drama be dialogistic, we find the Bible formed
on the same model. If the writers of the former disappear under the
personages of their fancy, the writers of the latter disappear under the
personages of fact. As in the one, so in the other, strangers are
introduced to tell their own story, each in his own way.

In the commencement of the Bible, after a brief prologue, the curtain
rises, and we, as spectators, look in upon a process of interlocution.
The scene is the green, sunny garden of Eden, that to which the memory
of humanity reverts as to its dim golden age, and which ever expresses
the bright dream of our youth, ere the rigor of misfortune or the
dulness of experience has spoilt it. The _dramatis personae_ are three
individuals, Adam, Eve, and the Serpent. There are the mysterious tree,
with its wonderful fruit,--the beautiful, but inquisitive woman,--the
thoughtful, but too compliant man,--and the insinuating reptile. One
speaks, the other rejoins, and the third fills up the chasm of interest.
The plot thickens, the passions are displayed, and the tragedy hastens
to its end. Then is heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the cool
(the wind) of the garden, the impersonal presence of Jehovah is, as it
were, felt in the passing breeze, and a shadow falls upon the
earth,--but such a shadow as their own patient toil may dissipate, and
beyond the confines of which their hope, which has now taken the place
of enjoyment, is permitted ever to look.

Without delaying on the moral of this passage, what we would remark upon
is the clearness and freedom of the dialogue,--a feature which we find
pervading the whole of the sacred writings.

In the account of Cain, which immediately succeeds, the narrative is