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 understanding, 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, childlike 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, stedfast 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 kindness, 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.

The first of the questions to which I have referred, is this: Since our first parents were entirely holy, how could they be come sinful?

This question, in its simple and proper form, is no other than,

How can a holy being become sinful? or,

How can a holy being transgress the law of God?

This question, to which perhaps no 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 I 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 propensity, 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 properly, the happiness and misery are the motives. Now it is plain, that in such a world (and all possible worlds except a world of perfect misery must be such) motives of both kinds must, at times, be present to the view of such a being. It is equally evident, that some of the motives to sin may, considered by themselves, become to such a being stronger inducements to action, than some of the motives to holiness. In other words, higher enjoyment may be found, or expected, in some courses of sin, than in some courses of holiness. That to a mind, capable of contemplating one or a few things only at once, and of feeling with different strength at different times the motives to sin, may chiefly or alone be present, will not be doubted. For it is apprehended, no finite watchfulness is sufficient to realize, with absolute certainty, the full presence of the motives to holiness at all times; nor to keep out of view all the motives to sin. Of course, every such mind may, for aught that appears, be induced by some supposable motive, or combination of motives, at some times and in some circumstances at least, to yield to temptation and disobey.

There is no proof from the nature of things, that finite strength and stability are sufficient to resist all possible mo