Chapter III.
Man in His Primitive Condition.

Man in his original integrity.—When we direct our attention to the account that is given us in Scripture of the work of creation, we find various circumstances recorded which evidently intimate the importance of the destiny that is assigned to man. In describing the formation of the material and irrational world, the inspired narrative is remarkably simple and concise: "And God said, Let the dry land appear; and it was so:" "And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind; and it was so." But in the account of man's creation a different style of expression is employed, and it would seem that a different method of proceeding had been adopted. "And God said, Let us make man, in our image, after our likeness." The solemnity of the style that is employed, the counsel and deliberate purpose intimated in the words, "Let us make man," and more particularly the expression, "in our image, after our likeness," plainly intimate that there is not only a radical and essential difference between the soul of man and "the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth," but that there is a peculiar honour and importance assigned to man.

After God had fashioned man out of the dust of the earth, and had breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, we are told that a portion of the new-formed world was prepared as his abode. "The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil," Gen. ii. 8, 9. And to complete his enjoyment, after He had given him dominion over the lower creatures, the Creator gave him woman to be a helpmate meet for him, and fashioned her from a rib taken out of the side of her husband, that being thus "one flesh" they might cleave to each other in love.

Man at the first was perfect in bodily organization and in animal faculties and desires.—We have every reason to believe that he was possessed of a degree of bodily vigour and activity far surpassing the strength of our present degenerated race; we are assured that perfect and uninterrupted health defied the approach of sickness and of pain, and his outward appearance, we may also conclude, corresponded to the purity of his soul, and to the vigour of his bodily frame.

At the same time, the animal faculties and affections of the unfallen Adam surpassed in vigour and harmony of operation those that we now possess. The blindness of our powers of observation, the frequent errors into which our reflective faculties fall, and the jarring affections that produce contest and strife within, are the fruits of the Fall. These imperfections were at first unknown. Adam's powers of observation were acute, his memory was clear, and all his affections were in harmony and peace.

In paradise, moreover, man was not left an idle spectator of the scene. He had employment provided for him, that body and mind might have pleasing inducement to the healthful exercise of their powers. The Lord God set him in the garden to dress it and to keep it. That measure of watchful care which serves to awaken a pleasing interest in the objects around us, and that moderate degree of exertion which makes active occupation a blessing, were appointed as a means of enhancing his enjoyment.

The providence of God supplied him also with a habitation suited to his exalted condition. The earth was beautiful and serene, and every creature that it contained was peaceful and friendly. No unsightly object offended the eye, no discordant note disturbed the ear. Creation is beautiful, even at the present time: it contains much that gratifies both the eye and the ear, though it has been blasted by the curse that followed man's transgression. It still affords, in its state of degradation, abundant evidence that it must have been supremely excellent in its primeval perfection, when no chilling blast came to wither its flowers, when no hurricane desolated its plains, and no earthquake shook its massive frame,—when all was fresh and fair, and Jehovah looked on His finished work, and "saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good."

Man was also perfect in respect to the powers and emotions of the soul.—This may be inferred from the whole tenor of Scripture statement in reference to man's original condition. Before the Fall, reason and conscience reigned supreme, directing all the senses of the body, and all the faculties of the animal nature. The conscience was not darkened through the influence of sin, nor the judgment perverted by prejudice.

A remarkable proof of Adam's superiority of mind was afforded in his naming the creatures. "The Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof." With us names in themselves have frequently no significance; they are merely arbitrary marks by which we distinguish particular objects; but, in early ages, we find that names were uniformly descriptive of some distinguishing characteristic in the objects which they denoted. Men of science, in the present day, in making out their lists of the various mine­rals, plants, and animals, which they describe, have returned to the practice of the earlier times. The names they give are intended to indicate the distinguishing peculiarities of the creature to which they are given; and all who are acquainted with scientific nomenclature agree in saying, that to give a variety of objects such names as may appropriately express their distinguishing character, requires an acuteness of observation, and a power of discrimination, of which very few are possessed. When, therefore, we are told that Adam gave names to all the beasts of the field and fowls of the air, the description clearly implies that he was possessed of knowledge and discernment far exceeding any attainment to which his fallen descendants can lay claim.

A corresponding purity and perfection were found in the emotions of the soul. In Adam's bosom love held an undisputed sway. No selfish feeling interrupted the flow of cordial affection. He delighted in his partner's welfare as if it had been his own, and fulfilled the great commandment which bids us love our neighbour as ourselves. And while benevolence glowed in the soul, devotion held a still higher place within. Enabled by his pure and unbiased faculties to see the glory and goodness of the Creator, beholding the wondrous government and wide dominion of the Universal King, and enjoying uninterruptedly the blessings of the Lord, his heart was filled with gratitude, and his mouth with praise. Adam, at first, knew nothing of the struggle which the believer now experiences between the law of the spirit and the law in the members, between the dictates of conscience and the demands of corrupt desire. The whole man was holy; every power and every feeling performed its appointed office, and kept its appointed place. Man was like a goodly temple, no beam decayed, no stone removed; a temple built for the honour of God, exclusively devoted to the end for which it was erected, and never defiled by aught unholy.

In so far as the finite can be compared to the infinite, man was made in the likeness of his Maker. A true son of a Heavenly Father, his will was conformed to that of his Creator, his objects and desires were the same.

From such a constitution of mind perfect happiness necessarily ensued.—The exercise of our faculties, imperfect as they are, communicates pleasure; we may easily imagine, therefore, the delight which Adam found in studying the works and contemplating the perfections of the Lord. Our feelings of love and affection, although perverted and depraved, give a charm to our social intercourse, which forms one of the highest and purest delights that earth can afford. If our imperfect love, directed to sinful and imperfect creatures, be such a source of joy, how great must have been the pleasure experienced in Eden, when pure and perfect affection found, in a spotless and unfallen partner, an object worthy of its fondest regard. The Christian's feeling of devotion to his Redeemer, inadequate as it is, affords a gratification which he would not exchange for all that the earth contains; when Adam, therefore, gave his whole strength and heart to his God, without any sin to disturb his devotion, his soul must have been filled with a joy and peace of which we now can form but a faint conception; for to be perfect in holiness, is to be perfect in bliss.

This joy in the Lord was enhanced by the privilege of converse and communion with God. After his transgression we are told, "They heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden, and Adam and his wife hid themselves." He afterwards said, that when he heard the voice of the Lord, he "was afraid, and hid himself, because he was naked." The reason he assigns for hiding himself, and the whole description of the scene, evidently indicate that he had been admitted to a free and intimate communion with God before the Fall. This fellowship with his Maker, this peculiar intimacy of approach, in whatever way it may have been permitted, must have greatly conduced to the happiness which he enjoyed. It afforded full and frequent opportunity of receiving information in regard to the various objects that attracted his attention, and it gave him daily experience of his Heavenly Father's love.

Another privilege which Adam possessed was his having dominion over the creatures.—This was part of that image of God in which he was made, and was well calculated to promote the blessedness of the primeval state. The term image naturally suggests, not merely a certain measure of resemblance, but a likeness, or representation, that shows forth the nature and office of the original. The images of the heathen, for example, were emblematical figures, intended to represent the character and work of their fancied divinities. Man, therefore, as the image of God, seems to have been designed to shadow forth, in his lordship over the world, the nature of Jehovah's dominion over the universe. The blessedness of the lower creation, so long as he continued faithful to his trust, typified the blessings that flow from Jehovah's sovereignty; while the evils that followed his transgression are emblematical of the misery that would pervade creation, were the great Governor of all to relax His law, and leave the creatures to themselves. Man in Paradise was a king like God. The great Creator is not benefited by any service which the creature can render Him. He requires not the aid of any, although their bliss depends on Him, and He delights in doing them good. In the same manner, Adam had dominion given him, not for his own advantage, but for the benefit of the creatures that were under his rule. He did not require, as we do, to slay them that he might feed on their flesh, for the fruit of the tree was his food. He did not require to cover his body with their skins; for though he was naked he felt no cold, and was not ashamed. He had no need of their assistance to plough his fields, or to bear his burdens; for the garden brought forth its spontaneous fruit, no curse of barrenness lay on the soil, and his labour was not a toil, but a recreation and a pleasure. Adam's dominion had for its object the peace and the joy of the lower creation, and so long as he continued in obedience to his God, that peace was secure. At the same time, the relationship between him and the creatures put under his sway, served to enhance the happiness of man. To a rightly constituted mind there is no emotion more pleasing than that which springs from the consciousness of doing good to others. When Adam, therefore, walked through creation, and saw all around him smiling and in peace, he felt as a father does in the midst of his family, when in mirth and glee his children are sporting around him; he had not only the gratification that arises from beholding the joy of others, but that livelier emotion which springs from the thought of being the instrument and means by which it is procured.

Such was man's original condition. It was a state of honour and of bliss. It exhibited more fully than any other part of the visible creation the wisdom and goodness of God. The student of Scripture looks back to the picture which the Bible gives of Paradise with fond regret, and is often tempted to say, "Oh, Why was a scene so fair ever marred by sin?" Even the heathen preserved a memorial of the happy time in their traditions of the golden age. But bright and beautiful as it was, it did but open the way to a work far more magnificent—to a scene far more glorious—to a manifestation of Jehovah's perfections far more wonderful and transcendent.

 

The Original Covenant Made with Man.—When we con­sider all that is implied in the creation of any being, it is evident that no right of disposal is so complete as that which the Creator has in the creature which He has formed. A moment's reflection suffices to show, that, though the nature of His own perfections prescribes a boundary to His purposes, yet there is no limitation of His right to dispose of His creatures as He sees meet. Were He to cast the highest and brightest of all that stand before the throne into the abyss of wo, none might question His title to do as He pleased with His own, or venture to say to Him, What doest thou? It is His own infinite benevolence and righteousness alone that makes such a deed impossible; and it is our knowledge of His perfections that leads us to rest assured that He will ever act in love and righteousness towards His creatures. This assurance, resting on the manifestation of the Divine perfections, has been confirmed to man, not only by many promises, but also by express stipulations. These stipulations, to which the name of Covenants is usually applied, secured to us by the faithfulness of God, we must, however, remember, proceed from the sovereign pleasure of the Lord alone. The creature, as such, has no claim on the Creator's bounty; all that he receives is the free and unmerited gift of his God.

The service or condition required.—When God created man, He entered into an agreement which required a specified service. He appointed an appropriate penalty in case of transgression, and promised by implication a suitable reward in the event of obedience. "The Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." In this injunction it may be said there is no reference to the great commandment,— "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." We are not, however, to suppose that Adam was released from obedience to that fundamental law, on which all acceptable service is founded, and to which all rational creatures are designed to be subject. As a being possessed of powers which enabled him to understand the nature of his God, he was undoubtedly required to love the Lord with all his heart. But as the evidence and proof of this love, as an outward mark and sign of his devotion, he was commanded to abstain from the fruit of the forbidden tree. His duty was thus made plain. In a creature, like man, actuated by motives of various kinds, there is sometimes a difficulty found in determining the boundary between the lawful and the unlawful, between the emotion that involves no transgression, and the inordinate appetite and passion that violates the commandment of God. But when an outward evidence of conformity was prescribed, at once simple and distinct, no room was left for questioning or doubt. While the fruit remained on the tree, the covenant was entire, and all its blessings secure. The service required, it may also be observed, rendered obedience particularly easy. Nothing had been denied that was either necessary or useful. The Creator might have demanded the mortification of every appetite, and the restraining of every desire, and in doing so would have demanded no more than He was justly entitled to claim; but a trifling gratification of appetite and curiosity was all that was forbidden. To leave untouched the tree of knowledge imposed no hardship; it was merely the outward acknowledgment of dependence, like the ceremonial service, or elusory payment, required of the vassal, in token of allegiance to his feudal lord. It was designed to be a memorial of his mutable and dependent condition, and a means of reminding him that perfect bliss is only to be found in obeying and enjoying God.

It may also be added, that, in confining his covenant obedience to a single particular, the Lord pointed out to Adam the importance of summoning up all his watchfulness and resolution to guard against the specified offence, the necessity of keeping the injunction continually in view, and of regarding with fear and alarm everything which might prove a temptation to transgress.

The reward assured to obedience.—This reward, though not distinctly specified in the words of the agreement, was very evidently implied in them. If the penalty was death, continued life, with all its attendant blessings, was, by natural inference, the reward of obedience. How great that recompense was we have already seen. The dignity of man's position, and the joy, without and within, which was assigned to him, left no wish ungratified, and no desire unfulfilled.

Some have conjectured that, if Adam had continued in obedience for an appointed time, he would then have passed from his earthly scene of probation, and entered on the enjoyment of an eternal state of blessedness, like that which is now promised to the followers of Jesus. We find, however, nothing in Scripture that can legitimately countenance such a supposition, and we must remember that the reward promised to the believer hereafter is uniformly spoken of as something very different from that which is given to any other creature. It is the fruit and purchase of the Redeemer's work; it is a reward, therefore, to which the unfallen Adam could never lay claim, and of which even the angels do not partake.

There is no need for travelling beyond the boundary of the written record, or having recourse to hypothesis and conjecture, in order to exalt our ideas of the original blessedness of man. The descriptions given of man's primeval condition are short and imperfect, and there may, in all probability, have been many sources of dignity and enjoyment of which no mention is made; but enough has been revealed to shew the greatness of the glory that rested on the head of our great progenitor, and the purity and extent of that blessedness in which he was created. And all this was secure so long as the fruit of one forbidden tree remained untouched. Had man not sinned, paradise had still been blooming. Death and pain had been unknown. A holy and a happy race would have peopled the globe. No war or commotion would have desolated its fertile plains. All would have been peace,—peace between man and man, peace between man and the lower creation, peace between man and the hosts of heaven, peace between man and his God.

The penalty denounced against transgression.—This was death. In the common acceptation of the term, death denotes the separation of the soul from the body, but in the Scriptures it is also employed to signify the separation of the soul from God, which is called the second death. We understand, therefore, that the penalty denounced against the eating of the forbidden fruit included something more, and something more awful, than the dissolution of the tie that unites the soul and the body. When so little is said in regard to it in the Word of God, it is not easy to determine the exact import of the threatening, nor is it of very great importance to draw the distinction between the penalty incurred by the Fall, and the punishment denounced against sinners in the present dispensation. We may, however, remark that, on the one hand, the present condition of mankind, with all its pains and sufferings, and liability to death, is not the doom originally pronounced; for we know that doom was instant and immediate death. The evils to which we are now subjected are the results which flow from the original sentence, after it has been modified and changed through the gracious interposition of the Redeemer. On the other hand, the punishment awarded to those who reject the offer of salvation, is not the same as that which Adam incurred by his rebellion against the Creator. In regard to sinners of the present time, who harden themselves against the invitations of mercy, we are told, "This is the condemnation, that light has come into the world, and men have loved darkness rather than light." It is evident, that scorning the grace of the gospel is a very different offence from plucking the forbidden fruit, and as we naturally conclude that, for each offence there must be an appropriate reward, the original sentence must have referred to something very different from the suffering endured by men, either in the present state, or in the abodes of wo.

A very few sentences will suffice to shew us all that we now can ascertain with regard to the penalty originally denounced. The intimation, "In the day thou eatest thou shalt die," implied, in the first place, the loss of favour, and of all title to enjoyment, and the separation of the soul from God, who is the only source and fountain of bliss. This may be called judicial death, and necessarily flows from the very nature of sin, which is a wilful departure from the living God. In the next place, the sentence included the death of the body. This is made evi­dent by the Apostle, when he says, "And so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Whether Adam was given to understand that after undergoing the pangs of dissolution, there should be a resurrection unto death, and that the body should be doomed to everlasting suffering in a future state, the sacred narrative does not inform us, and speculation in such a case would be idle. In regard to the third, and most terrible part of the penalty, it seems plain that spiritual death was included. Adam and his descendants, if no mediator had interposed, would have been, like Satan and his associates, "full of all malice and wickedness." Hatred of God would have become their ruling motive, every proof of their Creator's wisdom and goodness would have inflicted a pang, and the worm that dieth not would have preyed upon their soul, and made the immortality of their nature the source of misery and wo. This is the fearful result to which transgression naturally and necessarily leads. Sin, in its nature, is the same, whether it be manifested in angels or in men; and while there are different degrees of suffering, all sinners must share in a common doom. There are gradations of guilt, and we are told of "the greater damnation" appointed to the more aggravated offence; but the same fearful sentence is pronounced upon all impenitent offenders,— "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels."

It is not necessary for us to know the exact import of the original sentence: we know that its terrors were exceedingly great; we know that Adam was fully warned, and that if God had sent him at once into perdition, he had only acted the part which justice and righteousness approved, though, blessed be the ever gracious Jehovah! justice was otherwise appeased, and mercy triumphed in wondrous victory.

The covenant was made with Adam, not only for himself, but for his posterity.—In entering into covenant with Adam, God dealt with him as the representative of his race, or, as it has been expressed, as the federal head of all mankind. In his obedience, had he continued faithful, they would have been blessed, but in consequence of his transgression they fell, and inherit a fallen nature. This doctrine is, no doubt, attended with considerable difficulties; but it is plainly revealed in the Word of God, its truth is confirmed by our every day's experience, and it is received by all whose opinions in regard to the doctrines of the gospel are worthy of consideration. We shall not therefore stop to consider the objections that have been urged against it.

Man seems in some measure to have been also the covenant head of the lower creation. We have very little information as to the condition of external nature before the Fall; but we are told that when Adam sinned his offended Maker said, "Cursed is the ground for thy sake; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth." In the consequences that resulted from this sentence of barrenness the other creatures must evidently have shared. If the herb of the field on which they fed was stunted and blighted, their enjoyments were necessarily abridged. It has very generally been supposed that they were exempt from death in their primeval state, and only became liable to it in consequence of the sin of Adam, as their representative; but in regard to this we have no information in the sacred record, though the idea in itself is highly probable.

The position in which our great forefather was thus placed, acting not only for himself but for his posterity, and in some measure, also, for the lower creatures, supplied him with a most powerful incentive to faithfulness in keeping the covenant of his God. If, as we conclude would be the case, from the very nature of God as just and true in all His ways, Adam was made aware of the responsibility laid upon him, if he knew that his transgression of the commandment would involve not only himself, but the world at large in wo, his feelings of affection for those nearest and dearest to his heart, and his sympathy and benevolence towards the creatures around him, would strengthen his resolution of obedience, and make him tremble at the thought of a deed which would entail such wide-spreading desolation.

The circumstances in which man was placed were highly favourable for his performance of the conditions required.—The duty appointed was at once reasonable in its requirements, and blissful in its effects. The great Jehovah, possessed of infinite excellence, is entitled to the supreme regard of His creatures, and to their ready and implicit obedience. At the same time, the rendering of this service leads directly to the happiness of those who pay Him the tribute that is His due. In loving and serving God, and in no other manner, can rational and accountable creatures be either virtuous or happy.

Man, moreover, was created holy, and free from inordinate emotion. His understanding was clear, and admitted the truth without prejudice or admixture of error; his moral faculties were unbiased by any delusive weakness or sinful affection; and his will was conformed to the dictates of conscience and reason. His outward circumstances were highly favourable. His dwelling-place was a habitation of delight, and every want was supplied. His occupation was suited to his nature, and furnished employment without fatigue, and exercise without exhaustion. All creation smiled upon him, the company of his partner doubled every pleasure, and communion with his God was the summit and perfection of his bliss.

At the same time his duty had been made plain. The rewards assured to obedience were manifold, and of the highest value. The continuance of all the advantages which he originally possessed, the peace of the creation around him, and the hope of increasing joy, were all held forth as the recompense of faithfulness; while death, with its terrible pains, the separation of the soul from God, and the curse of an offended Creator spreading over the world, were the dreadful penalties denounced against transgression.

No situation can be imagined in which man could have been more favourably placed for his perseverance in duty. The strongest obligations which gratitude and devotion to God could impose, the most urgent claims which regard to his own welfare and that of others could urge, demanded obedience. All the motives which we should think likely to have any influence ranged themselves on the side of fidelity. The inducements to transgression were contemptible and few.

Man, however, was not subjected to any restraint. The good and the evil were set before him, and he was allowed to choose between the two, or, as it is generally expressed, he was left to the freedom of his will.

The sad result is but too well known; the serpent beguiled him, and he did eat.

The design of the Lord in thus dealing with man, we, in our present condition, are unable fully to understand. That man was created liable to transgress—that his transgression was foreseen of God—and that all circumstances were arranged according to the predetermined counsel of the Most High, we are instructed to believe. That all has been appointed in order to shew forth the Creator's perfections, and, in the end, to advance the happiness of his creatures, we also know. But there are difficulties surrounding the subject, there are seeming discrepancies between the doctrine that asserts the predeterminate counsel of the infallible mind, and that which declares the freedom of man's will which we cannot altogether reconcile; and we must come at last to the conclusion of the apostle, "Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?"

 

The Fall.—The narrative of the temptation and Fall which we find in the Scriptures is very brief, so much so, that some have been led to suppose that a portion of the original record has been lost. It contains, however, enough to show us the steps by which our first parents were led to transgress, and to point out the motives that concurred in urging them on to sin. In the third chapter of Genesis we are told, "Now the serpent eras more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" We learn from other parts of Scripture, as well as from the nature of the circumstances detailed in the passage now referred to, that the serpent here spoken of was Satan, who had assumed a, brutal form for the purpose of disguise. He did not array himself in the gloomy might of the fallen angel, but came in the semblance of an irrational creature, lest he should startle or terrify his victims. He did not transform himself, as we are told he sometimes does, into an angel of light, lest the sight of heavenly splendour should inspire humility and awe; but he put on the appearance of a creature with which they were familiar, that he might lay every suspicion asleep. He addressed himself to Eve, when she was alone, lest the mutual counsel of our first parents should have discovered his fraud, and enabled them to resist his allurements; and he came to her rather than to her husband, lest Adam's longer experience and greater firmness of mind should have proved too much for his assaults.

He then said, as in surprise, "Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" Whether he thus spake in reply to information previously communicated by Eve, or whether this was the original commencement of an address which professed to be an inquiry into the nature of the commandment that had been given, we cannot tell; but the sentiment which the words were intended to convey is abundantly plain. It is as if he had said, "Is it possible that such an injunction has been given? For what purpose, then, has the tree been planted there? Has it been formed merely to insult and tantalize you? It cannot be. Such a prohibition would be inconsistent with the work and character of the Creator. The words of the commandment must have been misunderstood."

This language not only excited the curiosity of Eve, but led her to reason presumptuously in regard to the purposes of the Lord, and to measure His ways and counsels by her own feeble judgment, and thus prepared her for rejecting the simple statement of God, because she was unable to comprehend its design. This calling into question the meaning and propriety of the Divine injunction, was the beginning of her fall. So long as man, or any other responsible creature, rests satisfied with the assurance that the doctrine set before him, or the precept appointed him, comes from God, he readily believes the one, and obeys the other; but whenever he begins to discuss the expediency and fitness of the counsel given him from above, when ever he makes his own power of comprehension the measure of truth, he prefers the creature to the Creator, and hastens to his fall.

Eve, in the simplicity of her heart, repeated the words of the commandment that had been given,— "We may eat," said she, "of the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die." In this reply we may discover evidence that the poison of the serpent had begun to work. She knew, from Satan's address, that he was already fully aware of the nature of the prohibition; she did not, therefore, require to give him any further information; and had she continued to entertain a due regard to the authority of her Maker, she would have turned away from the tempter, instead of standing to hear any argument tending to impair the reverence due to the great Sovereign of all. The repeating at greater length the words of the commandment, shows also, that her attention had been turned away from the character and authority of Him that gave it; she is not satisfied with learning, in the spirit of humble dependence, what God had forbidden, but her chief desire is to discover the reason why it had been forbidden. We may also remark, that the peculiar reference made to the penalty appointed for transgression, which had not been referred to before, and the alteration made in the manner of expressing the injunction, so as to make the punishment denounced appear the most prominent part of the covenant declaration, show that her thoughts were gradually withdrawing themselves from God, and becoming fixed on herself. This formed the second step in her ill-fated career. She forgot the duty and obligation under which she lay to God, and confined her views to the consequences that affected herself. Devotion no longer swayed the sceptre of her affections; the nobler emotion was cast down, and selfishness usurped the throne.

Satan, perceiving the success of his former insinuations, followed up the advantage he had gained, and then proceeded more boldly to dispute the truth of the threatening. "And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: for God doth know, that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened; and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." He encourages her in transgression, by insinuating that an act which procured her an increase of knowledge could not, at the same time, involve the penalty of death; that it could not be regarded as possible, that when her faculties were enlarged, she should then be prevented from employing them; that when her enjoyments were increased, she should at once be deprived of her being. The name that had been given to the tree, and the immediate consequences which its fruit was fitted to produce, were artfully employed as evidences to excite the belief that her apprehensions were groundless and vain.

This insinuation completed the tempter's triumph. He led his victim to hope for blessings though God had threatened wo. He did not dare to call the Lord a liar, or to speak of Jehovah's denunciation as a jealous and unmeaning threat; but he artfully induced Eve to act as if such had been the case. The fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom, and the foundation of all acceptable obedience, was taken away, and he had only to bring the allurement before her eyes, to perfect his work and to seal her doom.

We are accordingly told, "When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat." The various motives that urged her on to the commission of her offence are here enumerated. The sight, and it may be the odour, of the fruit led her to imagine that it was good for food, and bodily appetite called for its gratification. Its beauty pleased her eye, and she probably thought that the seeds of death could never hurt under so fair a form. It was a tree to make one wise; and that desire for indefinite advancement, and that thirst for knowledge, which are the distinguishing characteristics of the rational mind, put forward their claims; and Satan's wiles having previously banished devotion and the fear of the Lord, she stretched forth her hand and gathered the fruit, and ate of the forbidden tree.

This measure of success did not, however, satisfy the foe. The covenant having been made with Adam, Satan regarded his triumph over Eve as but a step to the accomplishing of his hateful design. Had Eve alone transgressed, her suffering was no doubt insured; but Eden would still have flourished, and no curse would have come on the earth. The tempter, therefore, proceeds on his murderous career, and now employs the woman as his unconscious ally in effecting her husband's destruction. "She took of the fruit, and did eat; and gave also unto her husband, and he did eat." Adam does not seem to have been beguiled by the tempter's arts, "Adam was not deceived," (1 Tim. ii. 14 ;) but he was unable to resist his partner's persuasions, and he braved the indignation of his God, rather than resist the solicitations of his wife. His motive seems to have been different from that which influenced her, but it was equally criminal; he leaned to his own understanding, and despised the counsel of Heaven; he preferred the creature to the Creator; he sinned, and he fell.

Satan's cruel design was thus accomplished. Adam, "the son of God," was now "the child of wrath." The world that had hitherto bloomed in primeval beauty, became obnoxious to the curse. Eve's foolish ambition received its recompense; she knew good, but it was only in the recollection of the past; and she knew evil in the bitterness of present endurance, and in the anguish of future expectation. "The eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked." Instead of being clothed in the robe of glory with which they fondly fancied that they should be arrayed, they saw that they were naked, that they were exposed without a covering to the displeasure of Cod, and had become objects of loathing in the sight of all that are holy. Impelled by a painful sense of their shame, they sought to cover their nakedness with leaves, and vainly strove to hide themselves from the presence of the Lord amongst the trees of the garden.

What their condition would ultimately have become, if no mediator had appeared, we cannot precisely determine. That their punishment must have been great, that it must have been a punishment proportioned to their guilt, we have already shewn. But through the merciful interposition of the Redeemer, their sentence was not only delayed, but hope was born out of the womb of despair. The wreck and ruins of a world, marred by sin, have been illumined by the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, and now shine forth, the wonder of an admiring creation; and the fall of Adam has prepared the way for the coming of Him who is the first-born of every creature, and in whom the nature of man is exalted even to the throne of the Eternal.