ferred on the serpent the power of rational conversation, which she had not hitherto observed in any of the animals around her, not even in the serpent itself whom she had known before."

That something of the kind, as set forth in the above quotations, did take place previous to the abrupt conversation recorded by Moses is not at all impossible. It may have taken place, and therefore did, for aught we know; and hence may serve to silence any one who may advance the objection under consideration. It is not improbable, however, that such a circumstance and conversation, as supposed by these writers did actually occur. The abrupt manner in which the Mosaic account commences has already been alluded to; but, if we notice the sixth verse, the probability becomes still stronger. "And 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." It seems as if there must have been something more than the conversation in the previous verses to have induced Eve to form the conclusion that the tree" was good for food." How could she know the tree was good for food, unless she had seen the serpent eat of its fruit? We need not dwell upon this portion of our subject.

No sooner had Eve partaken of the fruit of the tree, and her husband with her, than the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, and girded themselves about with fig leaves. A terrible light broke in upon their minds and consciences. They saw at once the arts by which the devil had blinded their eyes, and an overpowering sense of the magnitude of their sin came in upon them, like a flood. They felt how great was the cost of that knowledge which they had obtained by violating the commands of their Creator. They found themselves exposed to the infliction of all the terrors of the curse. Their souls were naked; there was nothing between them and the just vengeance of an offended God. They were guilty; there was no excuse. That which before was their glory, now became a source of shame; they could not tell why. They do not seem to have been aware that this was one of the fruits of disobedience. Perhaps they ought always to have covered themselves; hence the miserable apology of Adam to the Lord:

"I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked and I hid myself." It was the conscience of Adam that smote him.

The real cause of Adam's hiding himself was not his bodily nakedness. The great cause lay back of that, a deep, crushing sense of guilt, an utter nakedness of soul. His outward condition was but the index of something deeper and truer within, and was presented, whether or not Adam knew the true cause of his shame, as an apology for his hiding himself because "he was afraid."

It cannot with any consistency be here urged, because we contend for a spiritual nakedness, that therefore the fig leaves which were sewed together must have been spiritual also. We do not contend for spiritual nakedness alone. Adam knew his bodily condition, but because he knew it, must it therefore follow that he could not have had a sense of guilt, and hence, if not from it as a sole motive, at least from it as an added motive, have hid himself? How came Adam to have a sense of his bodily nakedness? Was it not sin that had opened his eyes?

With respect to the meaning of the passage; "And the eyes of them both were opened," we will add that we think we are sustained in it by similar passages in other parts of the Bible, where there can be no doubt that reference is had to the mind and conscience; passages too, which have an evident allusion to the one under consideration. In Deut. xvi. 19, we read that "a gift doth blind the eyes of the wise." It perverteth his mind, just as the promises of the serpent perverted and blinded the mind of Eve. Again in 2 Cor. iv. 4, "In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds." This passage read in connection with the following affords much light; Acts xxvi. 17, 18. "Delivering thee from the people and from the Gentiles, unto whom I now send thee to open their eyes." Certainly the mind and conscience are here referred to. There are several other allusions which we might adduce, such as the "eyes of the understanding being enlightened," but they may be thought too slight. The slightest allusions, however, are often the most satisfactory. For instance, the allusion to the concernment of the serpent in the Fall, contained in the phrase, "crooked ways," made use of by the Psalmist, is as slight as any one can

wish for; yet we doubt whether any one can give us any other source for the idea of sin, with which David invests the word "crooked." Neither is there any other source for the idea with which we invest the passage just quoted, than that which we find among the circumstances of the Fall. The original source

must be there.

But we need not have taken the trouble to trace these allusions, since there is sufficient to substantiate our position in the context of the passage under consideration. The language made use of by the serpent in the fifth verse deserves attention: "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." Evidently, reference is here had to an enlightenment of the mind; and, when we consider that the opening of the eyes is first spoken of in this passage, it is certainly to be expected that we should attach the same meaning to the same phrase, which is used in the very next verse but one following, and plainly in allusion to what the serpent had said. We do not intend to say that Adam and Eve found the opening of their eyes to be the same in every respect that the serpent had promised; all we contend for is, that in the one case, as well as in the other, the phrase is used tropically of the mind.

There is still another view which we might take of this subject. Adam and Eve were convicted of their sin. Their eyes were opened, and they saw that they were sinners in the sight of God; but we have reason to believe that they were finally saved. Verse 21st would seem to intimate this: "Unto Adam also, and to his wife, did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them," an emblem of the righteousness of Christ with which we believe they will stand clothed before the throne of God.

ARTICLE VI.

TRUTHFULNESS IN LITERATURE, THE BASIS OF A PERMANENT POPULARITY.

PRESENT popularity is no sure test of literary merit. We doubt if on the whole those works that are to do most for the thought of the world can be popular. The new or juster views of life and nature and their relations, by the very fact that they are new or juster, must find a limited audience. The works in theology and philosophy that are now most influential on the thought and life of the church, most potent in our civilization and culture generally, were not ordered by thousands in advance of the day of publication. The best writers must wait for their reward, and receive it at last in the consciousness of real service for their fellow-men, rather than as princely fortunes.

Yet in works of a more popular cast, commanding a large audience, we shall find that it is truth that prevails; it is because it is believed that truth is really expressed that a new work wins an audience and holds it when won.

Lord Macaulay ascribes to Mackintosh and Fox as an eminent qualification for writing history, the fact that "they had spoken history, acted history, lived history." In this respect they had advantages over most English historians. This was no new experience. The best history in Greek literature, that of Thucydides, was composed in the leisure which exile offered to a man of large experience in public life. Tacitus, the most truthful and philosophical of Latin historians, was for a time prætor and afterwards consul. Gibbon acknowledged that he owed a part of his success to his service in the militia and in the House of Commons. Irving could have written his "Conquest of Granada" nowhere but amid the scenes he portrayed; nor his "Columbus" without the familiarity with Spanish life and character that were to be acquired only by an actual residence for some time in Spain.

The first essential in all literature, whether history, poetry, or fiction, is truth. He who presents the most truth is sure of a

hearing, however many times the same story may have been told, or the same scene described. There is really an advantage in coming last for the truly great writer. He will not have the attraction of novelty to be sure, but that is one of the least merits, and one that vanishes with the using; but he will have the advantage of a better command of his materials. The great orators in Congress, who remain in their seats until it would seem that every body had spoken, and the subject under discussion was worn threadbare, command the largest audience when they rise, and leave their speeches to after times. Macaulay did not forbear to go over the same ground that Fox, Mackintosh and others had trod, nor was it any hindrance to Irving that Marshall and Sparks and many of inferior note, had written the life of Washington. The greatness of that wonderful character still waited the master's hand to set it forth in all its grandeur. It required distance to show its relation to its surroundings and to the cause of human freedom in the large field of history. Something of imagination as well as accurate knowedge of detail is required, to set forth any historic character in its just and even proportions. It was no idle speech of an English statesman, that he had acquired his best knowledge of early English history from the historic dramas of Shakspeare.

Rufus Choate once delivered a lecture on "The importance of illustrating New England history by a series of romances like the Waverly Novels." He wished to see the writer

"Begin with the landing of the Pilgrims, and pass down to the war of Independence, from one epoch and one generation to another, like Old Mortality among the graves of the unforgotten faithful, wiping the dust from the urns of our fathers, gathering up whatever of illustrious achievement, of heroic suffering, of unwavering faith, their history commemorates, and weaving it all into an immortal and noble national literature, pouring over the whole time, its incidents, its actors, its customs, its opinions, its moods of feeling, the brilliant illustration, the unfading glories, which the fictions of genius alone can give to the realities of life."

Scotland is a very different country from what it was before the days of Sir Walter Scott and of "Christopher North." She is different to herself, as much so perhaps as to the rest of the world. The truth was there, waiting to be revealed to the