Had kept an honour'd guest, thy daughter fair? Broughton, aged 66.

THE fall of man is an event in human history about which it is of the utmost importance we should be rightly informed. The views which have been taken of that catastrophe form a kind of foundation on which have been built a variety of theological systems, intended to provide a remedy for the spiritual ruin which it produced. But as those views indicate only an imperfect apprehension of what the Scriptures teach upon the subject, and seem to embody scarcely any conception of the real physiology of that event, it is no wonder that the doctrine of the Atonement, as commonly propounded, should have been invented to avert its consequences. As the precise nature of the disease had eluded the observation of the early physicians of the Church, we need not be surprised that they should have prescribed so crude a remedy. As long as men do not know the pathology of the disaster, so long they are likely to remain ignorant of the relief which has been provided. Let us then endeavour to understand this point.

The Scriptures contemplate man as a fallen being: that from which he fell was a condition of great spiritual eminence. This truth, as a general position, is admitted upon all hands. The views most commonly entertained on this subject are derived from the literal sense of some figurative statement contained in the third chapter of the Book of Genesis. No doubt that narrative treats of the first transgression of the Divine law, and, consequently, of the introduction of evil into the world but it seems clear that that misfortune did not include all the

mischiefs which are meant by the fall of man. It was, indeed, the

beginning of that disastrous event, but its termination was brought about by other results in a future age. The first act of disobedience may have been wilful, but it could scarcely have been malignant, and we have the highest authority for saying the last state of sin is worse than the first. Nor is it easy to see how the first progenitors of our race, could, by a simple act of insubordination, in which there was no apparent iniquity of heart, have been guilty of every enormity. The Scriptures do not say so, and such a notion is not conformable to experience. No doubt all sin is contrary to the Divine law, but every sin cannot be said to be equally atrocious. Persons so eminent in holy things as were Adam and his wife could not have descended from the lofty summit of every virtue by a single step. Vice is more timid in its beginnings than in its aftergrowth; it may go on from less to more, but the measure of iniquity is not filled by a single act. It is true that by Adam's transgression sin entered the world, and it is equally true that, in subsequent ages, men came to love darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil; but this latter condition was worse than the former. The garden in which has sprung up a single thistle, is not so bad as that which has been filled with thorns. The circumstance of the Lord having delayed His coming for thousands of years after the time of Adam's transgression, may be accepted as a decided proof that the worse crisis in the spiritual history of mankind had not then occurred. The Lord came to administer His great remedy for the fall of man when the time of man's greatest necessity had arrived.

The Mosaic narrative of Adam's transgression, as it has been intimated, is a figurative history of the method by which evil was brought into the world. It is not our intention to dwell upon that point, though it is necessary to refer to it as the starting-place in the exposition we propose. Such has been the turn which modern criticism has given to the popular mind respecting the contents of the early chapters of Genesis, that very few persons experience any difficulty in seeing that the story of the serpent and its persuasion to eat of the tree of knowledge, could not have been designed to indicate what is literally expressed. The serpent was not a talking reptile. The circumstance that it was endowed with intellectual powers and reasoning capability proves that it is employed as the emblem of some principle belonging to mankind. Theology indeed suggests that it was not the serpent which spoke, but the devil, who had assumed that appearance for the purpose of carrying on its deceptions. But the Scriptures do not tell us this; nor is it a reasonable supposition: if the devil had only half

the talents which are commonly ascribed to him, he would hardly have assumed so repulsive a form for the purpose of winning the attention of the most highly gifted woman of our race. It is thus plain that the serpent of the Mosaic record does not mean a serpent, and equally certain that the Scriptures do not say it was the devil in a reptile form; neither could it be, because evil, of which he is the impersonation, had not yet come into existence. What then was it designed to signify? We answer that it was employed as a symbol of the sensual principle of man. The representative manner in which it is so evidently made use of in ancient history, and the frequency with which it is so spoken of in the Scriptures, afford abundant proofs of this conclusion; but we cannot stop to discuss them now. The absence of those arguments will not affect the general exposition we have in view. The fall of man, we say, had its beginning in a perverse use of the sensual principle with which man had been endowed. The sensual principle is not necessarily an evil principle; it may be made so by some perverse employment of it on the part of man, but it is not any necessary inheritance of its nature. It is a principle essential to the completeness of our existence in the world, and we are gifted with senses for their lawful gratification. It is a possession of the good as well as of the evil: the good, however, rule it with the higher principles of their mental nature, and then it is an instrumentality for the performance of wise and orderly uses: but the evil permit it to rule the higher principles, and when that is the case, it runs into licentiousness and riot. The Lord plainly distinguished between the right and the wrong use of this principle when he instructed His disciples to be wise as serpents, and denounced the Jews as serpents and a generation of vipers. Now, those whom God called Adam-for that is a generic name for the race—had this sensual principle in Eden. This serpent was with them during the best periods of their innocency and culture; like their eyes and ears, and other senses, it was an endowment of their nature, and before they transgressed the law, it existed as an orderly activity to be enjoyed. Hence it is included among the things which the Lord God is said to have made. As He made it, it was in order and for order, for these were the characteristics of all that pertained to man during the period of his integrity. He was then an image of God. This highly cultivated condition of his interior nature was represented by Eden: it was the garden which the Lord God had planted, and out of which it was the divine purpose to grow every tree that was pleasant to the sight and good for food; that is, all those perceptions of wisdom,

and all those affections of love which are capable of affording delight and sustenance to the human mind. The tree of knowledge which was in the midst of this garden denotes a perception of the knowledge which teaches that every orderly delight is from the Lord, and that this should be the central thought of every advantage which is enjoyed. To eat of that tree was to think and believe that such knowledge and delight were from themselves, and this was forbidden, because the thought would be false, and to do so would be sin.

The narrative viewed under this aspect is denuded of many of its literal difficulties, and shewn to be in beautiful consistency with the character of God, and that state of perfectibility in which human society was originally placed. The tree of knowledge was not a thing without to cause temptation, but a perception within necessary to secure spiritual safety. As long as the people perceived and confessed that the knowledge which they possessed was the Lord's, and did not presume to regard it as their own, so long they were secure in the possession of intelligence and happiness. But when they began to think and believe that those advantages were their own and acquired by themselves, they began to eat of the tree of knowledge; the perception ceased, and then they fell from their high estate, but did not reach its deepest depths.

Although Adam was permitted to have full enjoyment of the garden, a condition was imposed: he was required to dress it and keep it. This was to be done, not by any compulsory force, but by a voluntary love. That which is loved is retained; as it ceases to be loved, it is in the act of being removed; when it is hated it is cast out. Adam knew, because he had been taught, that the way to maintain his high position was to cultivate its principles; use would increase their beauty and preserve their vigour; but he was not compelled to the performance of these duties. Compulsion would have reduced him to the condition of a beast; for beasts cannot do otherwise than that to which their instincts force them. Consequently man was free; that was a gift necessary to the perfection of his nature. His freedom was very great because he was "very good," and, therefore, he was told that he might freely eat of every tree of the garden; thus he was free to eat even of the tree of knowledge, but told that if he did so he would surely die: he did eat, and so perpetuated sin. From this it is plain that the fall of man began with the misdirection of his freedom. But how did that misdirection come about? what were the causes of it, and how did they arise This brings us back to the old problem of the origin of evil