ed. It was not a difficult thing, in itself, to persuade Eve, that she should not die. Death was an evil, whose nature she could but very imperfectly comprehend, and of which she had known no example. But of the pleasantness of the fruit, its fragrance, and beauty, she had a distinct comprehension. She also, in all probability, knew, in some degree, the character of those gods; Elohim, that is, Angels; to whose nature, knowledge, and dignity, she was to rise by eating the prohibited fruit. At the same time, he applied directly to the only object which was likely to be to her an object of desire. She and her husband were surrounded with good; and had nothing to regret, and nothing to fear. Their only danger seems to have been on the side of coveting more, because they already had so much; and of wishing, because they were now so wise and happy, to become wiser and happier. The Tempter, by his own experience, perfectly understood the power of this mode of attack, and the proper avenue, through which to introduce the temptation. Eve knew, that Angels were superior to her, as she was superior to the brutes; and probably knew not, but that this was the way in which they became Angels. These views would naturally make her consider the tree, as wholly to be desired to make one wise; and lead her to forget the danger of disobedience. At the same time, the boldness and impudence of the Tempter's assertions, probably astonished and confounded her. There is something in the confidence, with which, at times, assertions are made, which has always more or less commanded belief in the ignorant and inexperienced; such as she was at this time. To her he appeared to understand the subject in a manner, of which she had never before formed a conception; and the boldness and peremptoriness of his declarations gave them such an air of truth. and wisdom, as she was unprepared to resist. Nor did he fail to avail himself of the influence of that passion, which is so universal, so easily kindled, and so powerfully operative, in the minds of all her descendants; viz. Jealousy. God doth know, that in the day ye eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as Gods. In this speech, he artfully, but evidently, insinuated, that the true reason, why the tree was forbidden, was, that God knew this to be its nature and efficacy; that the prohibition was, therefore, insincerely and unkindly made; and that the whole proceeding, on the part of God, was sinister, selfish, and oppressive. This procedure gave an entirely new aspect to the character and conduct of God; and to a mind, beginning to be tinctured with jealousy, rendered that character unamiable, and that conduct suspected and unworthy. When this was accomplished, and Eve had let go her hold on her glorious benefactor, till then absolutely loved, venerated, and trusted; she was prepared for every thing, which could follow. A little contemplation of the fruit itself, after she had begun the course of infidelity in her heart, led her, as temptations have always led the heart of unbelief, to direct transgression and open rebellion. To eat it, she now perceived, would at once gratify her taste, and raise her to the envied distinction, which was promised. Such is the summary account, which God has thought proper to give us in his word, of one of the two most important transactions, which this world has ever seen. A part only, and not improbably a small one, of the events, which actually took place, is recorded. That various other things passed on this occasion, cannot be doubted. Beside the abruptness of the introduction, the first question appears to be asked in consequence of something, which had preceded. These outlines the great English Poet has filled with several natural and interesting circumstances, which, or something like which, may not improbably have happened. not difficult to believe, that the serpent may have alleged, that he himself had eaten of the fruit, and had not died; but, on the contrary, had gained, from its mysterious and happy influence, the powers of understanding and speech, with which he appeared to be elevated above his kindred brutes. It is Be this as it may; it seems evident, that the story, as here told, is either the close, or the epitome, or both, of a full account of the transaction. Yet, as it is, it is a specimen of consummate art, insidiousness, and fraud. The manner of address, on the part of the serpent, is calculated insensibly to insinuate, and inspire, jealousy and irreverence towards God; uneasy and repining thoughts of the condition, in which man was placed by him; ardent ambition to be like Angels in knowledge, happiness, and glory; and longing desires to eat the forbidden fruit for this end; together with strong hopes, that no evil consequences would follow the transgression. III. The character of the persons tempted, was probably singular. They were newly created; were innocent; were holy; and, considering the short period of their being, were undoubtedly possessed of no small discernment in divine things. They loved truth; were free from all biasses and prejudices; possessed a vigorous un derstanding; and thus were prepared for a ready reception of every truth, and for a rapid progress in useful knowledge. The progress, which they actually made, must have been great, under such advantages, compared with what, at first thought, may seem probable. Still they were imperfect beings; without experience; and destitute of knowledge in many particulars, which would naturally be wished in a case, where art and falsehood were employed against them; and, although furnished with a clear comprehension of their own duty, were totally ignorant of the character, and unable readily to conjecture the designs, of their Adversary. The first deceit, which they ever knew, was now practised on themselves; and the first falsehood, of which they ever heard, was now directed to their own destruction. Of the rebellion of the Angels, they probably knew nothing; and of the character of the Tempter, they would not naturally form even a suspicion. Accustomed to hear only truth, they would not easily expect a lie; and, habituated only to faithfulness and friendship, fraud and malevolence were, in their approach to them, assured of a necessary, and sufficient, disguise. That artless, child-like simplicity, which so delights the mind, and embellishes the pictures of the historian and the poet; which adorned the life, and endeared and enforced the lessons of the Redeemer himself; and which now constitutes no small part of evangelical excellence; was then a principal trait of their character. In the peculiar kind of wisdom, which we call prudence, they certainly had made little progress; and caution must have been known to them, only in lessons of instruction. Thus they were, in several important respects, beings fitted for imposition, and not unnaturally the victims of insidiousness and cunning. The same means, at the present time, ensnare persons of the same character; and it is not in the nature of things, that superior sagacity, however employed, should not possess the power of influencing, more or less, the same simplicity. Firm obedience, such as they were bound to render to their God, a prompt undeliberating refusal, and an original, steadfast determination not to listen, would have secured them from yielding; but, when they began to hear, and to investigate, they began to be exposed; and their danger increased with every step of their progress in inquiry. In the mean time, it seems, that neither of them thought of supplicating the aid of their Creator. A single prayer would have put the Tempter to flight, and dissolved the charm of the Temptation. A single recollection, also, of his commands, his kindnesses, and his instructions, might easily have produced the same effect. But neither prayer nor recollection was summoned to their assistance. Like their descendants, when forgetful of God, and, in a sense, forgotten by him, they were weak, frail, and exposed to every danger. IV. The consequences of the temptation were, as you well know, eminently unhappy. Eve, pleased with the appearance of the prohibited fruit, and warmed with the thought of becoming wise, of leaving her present humble station, and assuming that of an Angel, rashly ventured on the forbidden ground; disobeyed the command of her Creator; defiled herself with sin; and yielded her title to immortal life. In the same manner Adam, also, partook of the transgression, and of all its miserable effects; lost his innocence; and resigned his dominion, glory, and happiness. The remoter consequences of this event, I shall have occasion to consider in a future discourse. The remainder of this, I shall occupy with some considerations on two great questions, often and earnestly asked, concerning this subject, and with a few practical remarks. VOL. I. 52 The first of the questions, to which I have referred, is this; Since our first Parents were entirely holy, how could they become sinful? This question, in its simple and proper form, is no other than, How can a holy being transgress the law of God? This question, to which, perhaps, no satisfactory philosophical answer can be given, has been unnecessarily embarrassed by the modes, in which answers to it have been attempted. The language, often adopted, has been in a great measure abstract; and, being supposed to have meaning, when it had none, and to convey ideas, which it did not contain, has served only to bewilder, where it was intended to instruct. The common method of conducting the investigation of this subject has been to seek for some cause in the nature of man, styled a principle of action, to which this effect might be fairly attributed. As the principles of moral action in Adam, must have been holy, and could in no degree have been sinful; it is inquired, How could a holy principle be the cause of a sinful action? It will be obvious to a careful examiner, that in this inquiry, the word principle, is intended to denote a fixed, unchangeable cause; productive only of effects, of the same moral nature; and is supposed to exist, and to operate, during the interval of transgression. On this foundation, the inquiry is made; and, if the foundation be solid and just, the inquiry cannot be answered: because, in the actual case, viz. the case of our first Parents, there was no other principle of action, beside a holy principle. But in this scheme of thought, there is a plain and important fallacy; not improbably originated, and certainly established, by the use of the word Principle. I do not deny; on the contrary, 1 readily admit; that there is a cause of moral action in Intelligent beings, frequently indicated by the words Principle, Affections, Habits, Nature, Tendency, Propensity, and several others. In this case, however, as well as in many others, it is carefully to be observed, that these terms indicate a cause, which to us is wholly unknown; except that its existence is proved by its effects. There is, as every man, who does not embrace the doctrine of casual, or contingent, existence, must admit, a reason, why one being is holy and another sinful; or why the same being is holy at one time and sinful at another; as truly, as that there is a reason, why he exists. There is also a reason, why a being is, at some times, more strongly inclined to a regular practice of sin or holiness, than at others. Our judgment concerning moral beings, is customarily formed in accordance with these truths. We speak of human nature as sinful; intending not the actual commission of Sin, but a general characteristic of man, under the influence of which, he has committed Sins heretofore, and is prepared, and is prone, to commit others. With the same meaning in our minds, we use the phrases, sinful propen : sity, corrupt heart, depraved mind; and the contrary ones, holy or virtuous disposition, moral rectitude, holiness of character, and many others of the like import. When we use these kinds of phraseology, we intend that a reason really exists, although undefinable, and unintelligible, by ourselves, why one mind will, either usually, or uniformly, be the subject of holy volitions, and another, of sinful ones. We do not intend to assert, that any one, or any number, of the volitions of the man, whom we characterize, has been, or will be, holy, or sinful; nor do we, indeed, design to refer immediately to actual volitions at all. Instead of this, we mean to indicate a state of mind, generally existing, out of which holy volitions may, in one case, be fairly expected to arise, and sinful ones, in another such a state, as that, if it were to be changed, and the existing state of a holy mind were to become the same with that of a sinful mind, its volitions would thenceforth be sinful; and vice versa. This state is the cause, which I have mentioned; a cause, the existence of which must be admitted, unless we acknowledge it to be a perfect casualty, that any volition is sinful, rather than holy. This cause is what is so often mentioned in the Scriptures, under the name of the heart; as when it is said, The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. I have already remarked, that this cause is unknown, except by its effects. From these, however, we learn, that it is not so powerful, nor so unchangeable, as to incline the mind, in which it exists, so strongly to holiness, as to prevent it absolutely from sinning, nor so strongly to sin, as to prevent it absolutely from acting in a holy manner. Both Revelation and facts, the only sources, from which we derive any knowledge of the subject, place this truth beyond a reasonable debate. Beings, who have sinned, have afterwards become holy; and beings, who have been holy, have afterwards sinned; and nothing more seems necessary to explain this subject to us sufficiently, than barely to suppose, what we cannot avoid supposing, that a temptation, actually presented to the mind, is disproportioned in its power to the inclination of that mind towards resistance. I have now, I flatter myself, prepared the way for introducing the only intelligible, and in any degree satisfactory, method of examining this subject; which is, to consider the man, and the facts; and not the abstract principles. In this view, the case stands thus: GoD created a moral being, capable, in the nature of things, of either sin or holiness. Originally, this being was holy; that is, disposed to obey the will of GOD; possessing a state of mind propense to virtuous, and opposed to sinful, conduct. Fitted by his moral nature to be operated on by motives, as all moral beings are, he was placed in a world, filled with motives; of which some induced to obedience, and others to disobedience. Wherever the means of happiness and misery exist, such motives exist of course; and of both kinds; for these means, themselves, are the motives; or perhaps more pro |