The First Man

A GLANCE at the works of God shows that there is progress in them all, and that in them all the Creator has an end in view, which is worthy of himself Hitherto, the creation which he had so miraculously called into existence, was unintelligent. There was to be a higher and nobler order of beings, transcending the mere material and animal as far as the spiritual and immortal transcends the natural and the mortal, and making new and ever-progressive disclosures of the unsearchable Deity.

Questions there are of deep interest both in theological science and in casuistry, depending upon the views that are entertained of the nature of man. What am I? To what order of creat/ures do I belong? What are the peculiarities of my nature and relations f What a/ie my responsir Mlities? Whence am and what is my destiny f I am the progeny of my parents; they of theirs anid theirs of an ancestry which extends to a still more remote period of time. Who can tell hut men thus exist always and in an eternal series of generations?

To all these inquiries, the word of God gives a definite answer. It teaches us that man, though among the first things began to be; and that there was a time when he did not exist. The atheist himself cannot deny this. If men exist in an eternal series of generations, then infinite generations are already past and gone. If infinite generations are already past and gone, the time was when each in the series was actually present; for if never actually present, it never existed. If each in the series was actually present, then the time was when all except one were future. The hypothesis contradicts itself. It supposes one generation to have been infinite, or the finite beginning of infinity. The absurdity is too palpable to require more than this passing remark. The human race had a beginning. Like the original chaos, and the light and the firmament, man was created by the great Author of all things.

There is a marked peculiarity in the Mosaic narrative of the creation of the first man,” Let us make man in our image after our likeness / so God created man in his own image in the image of God made lie himT God himself was the

THE FIRST MAN. Yl

model, after wMcli lie was formed. He was created miraculously. He did not grow up from infancy to youth, and from youth to riper years; but like the plants and trees, like the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of heaven, and the animal creation, and the earth, he was created in full bloom and maturity, the perfection of humanity, and the model of all that is noble in the successive generations of men. When he was first conscious of his own existence, he was conscious of this maturity both of body and of mind. It was not by any agency of his own that he came into being, nor by any consent of his own; nor was he conscious of his dependence on any other being, nor of his obligations to any other but his Almighty Parent. Keason taught him, and his Maker taught him that “he was the son of God,” and came into existence by the will and power of Him for whose pleasure he was created.

The sacred writers most certainly do not use flattering words when they speak of men. They call things by their right names, and set before us the human character in its true deformity; while at the same time they speak of man as the honored race, and as entitled to regard from the race to which he belongs. When we are told that God created man in his own image, we are made the depositaries of a truth from which we may learn something of God from what we know of man, and something of man from what the Scriptures reveal concerning God.

It was not in his corporeal organization that the first man resembled his Creator; for “God is a Spirit,” not to be inspected, not to be analyzed, not even to be fully comprehended. There are visible exhibitions of the Deity; but his essential glory, the pure spirituality of his nature, lies far out of sight. All we know of it is that it is pure, and unmingled, and infinite. His understanding is infinite, his will omnipotent, and his moral dispositions are not only free from all imperfection, but constitute a fountain, an ocean of purity and loveliness that cannot be measured by finite minds. In the different gradations and orders of being, there is first mere inanimate matter; at one remove from this is the exquisite and curious machinery of art; still higher are the beauty, instinct, and consciousness of the animal creation; above this, is the wonderful structure of the human mind; in advance of this, is the angelic creation; while beyond, there is no intermediate existence till we arrive at the infinite God. There is a mighty chasm between the finite and the infinite; we cannot dart our thoughts across it. “Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that thou visitest him?”- There are views of his nature which render him abject; yet are there views of him which we cannot help looking upon with wondrous interest, because lie was made but a little lower than the angels, and next to them, holding a position nearest to the Infinite One, and formed in his image.

Man is a complex being, formed of a body and soul. That body of his, dust as it is, and to dust as it will certainly return, is itself a wondrous thing. His face, his form, his lineaments surpass in majesty all the creatures God had made. There is a nobleness written upon his brow, which still marks him as having been the early favorite of his Creator. The tongue of man gives him what no other portion of the animal creation possesses; he has the power of articulate speech, and utters a language that can be expressed by symbols and perpetuated by letters. The hand of man, adapting itself to every form and .shape of matter, and giving him such power of execution; the eye of man, that has a meaning from infancy to old age, that speaks almost as intelligibly as his voice, and that has a lustre, a penetration, an authority by which men themselves are in no small degree governed, and which exerts so mysterious a power over the brute creation, are strongly indicative of his pre-eminent superiority. Strange to say, his physical frame is more enduring of toil than any of the brute creation, and is capable of efforts before which the most gigantic of the lower animals faint and die. He can live in every climate, become accustomed to heat and cold, and be cheerful and hapj)y where few, if any other animals can live and be perpetuated. In the lowest species of animals, there are none of these distinguishing properties; in the ascending scale, we meet with something that bears resemblance to them; while in man we see them in such degrees of perfection, that we are convinced we have reached the highest scale in the series. Who, as he inspects this wondrous mechanism, can refrain from saying with the Psalmist, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made!” Though of lowly origin and allied to earth, the material world does not furnish so striking proofs of the di4ne wisdom and goodness as are visible in the organization of that animated frame. The least perfect and most summary treatise upon the anatomy and physiology of the human body, is well fitted to fill us with admiration of what we are. From no department of natural science do the elements of natural religion and those first principles of theology which the sacred writers everywhere assume, derive stronger confiimation, or illustrations more cui’ious and ample, than from this complex and beautiful fabric, this earthly house, this tabernacle of clay.

Yet this did not constitute the man; he had a spiritual as well as an animal existence. His body and soul were different and had a different origin. The former was formed of dust, the lat-THE FIRST MAK. 75

ter was the immediate inspii-ation of God himself.

Unhappily, there is a strong tendency in the researches of physical science to stop at second causes and terminate theu- researches in some of the forms of ancient or modern materialism. There are not wanting those who still speculate about the soul of man, as though, with Epicurus and the Stoics, they thought it an attenuated and material substance; a subtile air, or flame, or portion of heavenly light. Not a few among modern Phrenologists maintain that it is the result of some peculiar oi’ganization of the brain. They would have us believe there is no definite line of separation between what is material and what is immaterial; that, the bond which unites them is too delicate to be visible, and that the distinction between them is founded on conjecture. They profess to demonstrate that there is an organ of mtelligence and that it is unphilosophical to affirm that matter is essentially unintelligent. “If,” say they, “matter be capable of gravitation, of elective attraction, of life, of instinct, of sensation, there does not seem to be any absurdity in supposing it is capable of thought.” Such an hypothesis might interest us if we were not driven, not less by sound philosophy than by the Scriptures, to recognize the omnipresence of the great First Cause in sustaining: and directino: the whole material and immaterial creation. When we ask ourselves, what are those mysterious laws of nature by which the movements of organized and inorganic matter are directed; by which light and heat, and <nagnetism and electricity, develop their wonderful phenomena; by which matter assumes so many shapes, and forms, and textures, and modifications of beauty, life, and enjoyment: we answer in the language of Dr. Paley, “They are the name of an effect whose cause is God.” The argument against these materialists lies within a narrow compass. Perceiving, thinking, and willing must be either inherent in matter originally, or they must result fi’om some particular form, or modification, or motion of matter, or from some immaterial substance. Are they then inherent in matter, either in its several parts, or as a whole? If it be intelligent as a whole, it must be intelligent in every atom; for a concourse of the unintelligent cannot produce the intelligent. If intelligent in every atom, whence is it that there are so many unintelligent forms and modifications of it? A clod of earth, a block of marble, does not think. Neither a mountain nor an atom, neither a burning volcano nor a flash of lightning, perceives, thinks, or wills. And if this be so, it is very difficult to conceive how that which is essentially unintelligent as a whole, and also in its several parts, can become intelligent by any peculiar organization. Matter is no nearer thinking for altering its form or position: for being two or three particles, or three hundred; for being gross or refined, condensed or volatile, circular or square, indefinitely large or indefinitely small. Whether in confusion and disorder, or in the most precise and geometrical arrangement; whether in the seed of a vegetable, or in the egg of an animal, in a cord of the nerves, or a gland of the brain, it is still unintelligent. Nor can it approximate to thought by being set in motion. If thought results from matter in motion, then the whole material universe is intelligent; for no part of it is absolutely in a state of rest. The circulation of the blood, no less than the ebbing of the tides, is incompetent to the production of thought. Whatever be the essence of matter or of mind, we know them only by their properties. Matter is an extended, solid, inactive, movable substance; mind is an existence which perceives, thinks, acts, wills. Matter is the object of the senses; mind of consciousness. Matter has none of the properties of mind; mind has none of the properties of matter.

Nor are these conclusions invalidated by the fact, that there are indications of mind in the inferior animals. We do not call this fact in question, while we judge it of some importance to set it in its true light. The inferior animals possess thought and knowledge. The Scriptures teach us, that “the ox Tcnoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib.” Yea, “the stork in the heaven hnoiveth her appointed times; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow observe the time of their coming.” But between the intellectual properties of man, and the instinct, or intellectual capacity of animals, there is a wide and strongly-marked diiference. The knowledge of the inferior animals is confined to a narrow sphere. It is little more than “the law of organized life in a state of action,” and extends only to what is necessary for their preservation and comfort. It does not seem capable of progression; it is the gift of the Creator for these definite purposes, and extends not beyond these defined limits. The bird builds her nest, and the bee and the beaver construct their cells now as they constructed them a thousand years ago. So far are they from making any advances in knowledge, that their sagacity is diminished rather than increased, even by human care and culture; while man’s capacity is boundless; he is a learner even to old age; and the more he knows, the more is he capable of advancement. The knowledge of brutes is altogether independent of instruction; it is spontaneous; it is without deliberation, and without an object except a prodsion for its wants. Man has an end in view in his intellectual attainments, and a far-reaching purpose. The inferior animals have little knowledge of the past, and no anticipations of the future; they think only of the present, and only of themselves: man looks backward and forward, searches into the past, surveys the present, and penetrates into futurity. The animal creation cannot reason; they have no powers of imagination and abstraction; they have no perception of cause and effect, no discernment of the marks of wisdom and design, no power of distinguishing between truth and error, fiction and reality, right and wrong. They have not man’s conscience, nor his hopes, nor his fears, nor his capacities of enjoyment. They have sensation, perception, and memory, and strong appetites and passions, and strong animal sensitiveness and sensibilities. They have will and choice, but their volitions are determined without the intervention of reason, and are decided by appetite, passion, and habit. God hath “deprived them of wisdom, neither hath he imparted to them understanding.”

The soul of man is a wondrous existence; not as its Creator is wondrous, but as his most marvellous work is wondrous. “There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding.” Though mysteriously united to a material substance, it is not amalgamated nor blended with it, nor does it resemble it in any of its properties. It cannot be seen by the eye, nor felt by the touch, nor has it any surface that can be measured, nor can it be separated into parts. The infinite God is a vast and infinite world within himself; and his creature man carries within himself his own finite and little world. Of the more general properties of man’s nature, as consisting of a body and a soul, it is not necessary that we say more. But we would utter ourselves more definitely when we speak of his immaterial nature, and endeavor to express some just conceptions of that which constitutes it.

What then is the human soul? In what respects it is unlike the Deity, we know; but, if it was created in God’s image, there are particulars in which it is lilx,e him. Is the Deity in his nature intelligent? so is the soul of man. It possesses the natural faculties of perception, reason, conscience, and memory; these belong to its intellectual character. There is the same distinction between the natural and moral properties of the human soul, that exists between the natural and moral attributes- of the Deity. Is the Deity, in his nature, an acting existence? is he all spirit and action? so is the soul of man. It is an existence whose nature is to act. In its first creation in Paradise, and in its first existence as it comes into being in successive generations, it has, to say the least, intellectual and moral tendencies; and what are these, if not its incipient actings? Wherever that creature exists which may be truly called the soul of man, there is an acting existence. It is that which not merely thinks and reasons, loves and hates, topes and fears, acts and inspiiits; it is itself tliouglit, reason, emotion act. From its nature, there is no inactivity about it; it is activity, because it is spirit. Intellectual philosophers have questioned the truth of this position, and none more than Mr. Locke in his Essay on the Human Understanding. But this is not the only truth disputed by this great philosopher; such a denial is in keeping with the views of his Arminian philosophy, as expressed in his more religious writings. In the language of a living and more evangelical author, “There is a power within us unconscious and incapable of fatigue. Certain exercises of the mind, such as continuous thought and emotion, induce exhaustion and weariness, for in these it employs an organization which requires rest. But the individual will is perfectly unsusceptible of fatigue. In its volitions, the mind asserts its proper spirituality. As far as material help is concerned, the will acts from itself. In itself, the mind is an energy, and the source of untiring energy.“^’ These are sound views. It is not the mind that becomes wearied by intellectual effort, but the material organization which it employs”; it is not the mind that calls for repose, but the wearied frame in which it dwells, and which sleeps only to be awaked again, and

* Harris on the Constitution and Primitive Condition of the Humaa Being. Chap. v. again exhausted by the busy tbouglits and untiring will within. The mind like its great parent Spirit, never slumbers and never sleeps. If it were a piece of mechanical clock-work, it might run down and stop, and be wound up again. But the inaction of matter is not one of its properties; and if it once runs down and stops, there is no conceivable cause within itself that can set it in motion, nor could it ever be set in motion except by a new and creating power. It was the glory of the first man, that he was thus “made a living soul.” It was his elevation and dignity, that he possessed vast spiritual capacities; that he was endued with a mind capable of unlimited expansion, — a treasure-house of thought, whose intellectual wealth should be ever increasing.

There can be no doubt that God conveyed extensive knowledge to the first man by an immediate and supernatural revelation; nor will it be questioned that these divine communications were the means of invigorating his intellectual capacities. And though the intellectual powers of his descendants are darkened and impoverished by sin, it is impossible for us to describe the fields of thought over which the mind of man, even now, is capable of expatiating. The gold has become dim, but it is still gold. It is mind and not matter; it is intelligence and not idiocy; it is the activity and powei of thought and will, and not the inertness, and age. and decay of a mere material organization. Its moral assimilation to the Deity it lias lost; while it retains this intellectual resemblance. The former was “the glory that excelleth,” the latter is the glory that remains. Were the mass of men idiots, how should we venerate the few that were intelligent; or were there but one in a million known and distinguished for intellect, how should we venerate him, and approach him as a being of superior rank! Our first father deserves our homage, were it only for his high capacity of thought. This ‘fair jewel is the inheritance of the race. And though it shone brighter on his unscathed and unfurrowed brow than it has since shone, it still belongs to man, and sparkles even in its degradation. Kthe most fine gold be changed, there is even in this casket of clay a gem which twinkles in borrowed rays from the “Father of lights.”

The soul of man was also created moral and OGCountahle. A moral and accountable being is one who possesses a character that has moral qualities, and capable of being judged by a moral law. Much as men are disposed to honor intellect, we all feel that no man ought to be measured by his intellect alone; they are his ropral attributes which constitute his glory. The first man was created in the full possession of his intellectual and moral faculties; and was therefore created imder moral obligation. He was capable of distinguishing, not only between reality and fiction, truth and error, but between what is right and what is wrong. Once let the obligations of religion and morality be set before such a mind, and it feels the weight of them as certainly and as necessarily as his senses are affected by the objects of sense. This is a truth intuitively discerned: we can give no other account of it except that the Author of our being has so constituted us. The first man knew his relations to his Maker, and the biddings of his conscience told him that his Maker’s will was law. He could not divest himself of the feel- ’ ing that he was bound to do what God required, and to abstain from doing what God forbade. It was the obligation of rectitude, and he felt it. He could not throw it off, nor renounce nor resign this responsibility. There was a voice within him that enforced it, and a voice which nothing could silence. It was inwrought in his nature; it was concreated with his created soul, and formed a constituent element of his being. And it is common to all men; man everywhere recognizes the distinction between right and wrong. Even Hume confesses, that “the principles upon which men reason in^orals are always the same. Let a man’s insensibility be ever so great,” says this infidel writer, “he must often be touched with the images of right and wrong; and let his prejudices be ever so obstinate, he must observe that others are susceptible of like impressions.”* Understanding and conscience constitute men moral and accountable wherever they are found. It was not a mere irresponsible sagacity with which the first man was invested; the brutes had these, but they were not accountable. The light did its Maker’s bidding; and so did the sea and the dry land, and so did every herb of the field; but none of these were moral and accountable. The physical and the animal creation were subject to law, but it was not a moral law. God gave man a law commanding what is right and forbidding what is wrong; this law was the rule of his duty and of his accountableness.

There were greater things in the created universe; but there was no created existence so important as man, on account of his moral and responsible nature. The sun and the stars of heaven could accomplish that to which his arm was incompetent; but be their action ever so useful or injurious, it could not be either approved or condemned. Man possessed a nature capable of doing good or evil; and in this, a nature capable of setting in motion a train of causes whose influence should be felt to the utmost verge of the divine empire. His character and conduct were allied to the most magnificent and glorious interests in the universe. He was free to do right or

* Hume’s Essays: Inquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, Sect, i wi’ong; to honor or dishouor the God that made him; to obey or disobey; to increase the aggregate of lartue and happiness in the universe, or to open the sluices of wickedness, and swell the tide of vice and wretchedness. He was capable of holiness and happiness, and he was capable of sin and misery, and of making continual progress in both. The foundations of this responsibility are laid deep; too deep ever to be disturbed without annihilating the soul of man itself.

Not only was this first man created moral and accountable, but he was created holy. As he came from the hands of his Creator, he was bright and pure. The earth was fair and beautiful; the heavens were decked with lights which single and alone, or in clnstered galaxy, declared the glory of God. And when he created man to inhabit this “beautiful earth, he formed him fitted for his select abode and high destiny. He was formed in the image of his Maker, not because he was a partaker of the divine intelligence only, and not simply in that, like his Maker, he was a spiritual and moral existence; but because he was a partaker of the divine holiness. The statement that he was made in the image of God, implies that all his intellectual and moral powers were in a state of perfection; and that, in the excellency of his disposition and character, he was every way a finished and perfected existence, and fit to be the adornment of the new-created world. Metaphysical theologians of the Arminian school profess to see insurmountable difficulties in the doctrine of created holiness. They affirm that holiness is the act of the creature, and because the creatures act, must be caused by the creature. But even upon the hypothesis that holiness is the act of the creature, and nothing but his. act, it does not follow that it is not caused by the Creator. The soul of man itself is a created thing, and like all other created things, is constantly dependent on the will of God for its continuance in being. The soul of Adam was not sufficient of itself to think anything of itself; it lived, and moved, and had its being in God. It was an acting existence, but it was a dependent existence, and dependent for its activity. All its springs were in God. If God had not created him holy, or made him holy after his creation, he never would have been holy. Nor does the idea of created holiness at all interfere with the idea that it is the creature’s act. We challenge philosophy to show that the acts of a holy creature cannot be caused by the Creator, or that they are the less voluntary because they are the effects of- divine power. The Scriytures teach us that the gracious affections in the heart of the Christian are an effect of God’s power; nor are they on this account, any the less the acts of the Christian’s mind. His love to God is his own act; he himself performs it, but it is “shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost,” The first man needed more than to be created with intellectual and moral faculties, just as the material universe needed more than to be created, and then left “to go alone;” it was necessary that the right exercise of these faculties should be produced by divine power. And this is everywhere the teaching of the Bible. “So God created man in his own image; in the image of God created he him.” If there be any doubt as to the nature of this resemblance, let the doubt be solved by the Apostle when he says, “And that ye put on the new man which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness.” The new creation makes men holy, and is in the image of God; the first creation, which was in God’s image, made the first man holy. The author of the Book of Ecclesiastes declares, “Lo this only have I found, that God tnade man upright, but they have sought out many inventions.” God did not create Bin; wickedness is not from him. He made man upright; this is his greatest preeminence. It was created holiness that he possessed, — a ])orrowed holiness; but it was not the less holiness because created. Nor was it the less lovely. It was “the beauty of holiness” — beautiful as the blossoms of the young paradise, stainless as angelic purity, a mild reflection, and miniature resemblance of the Uncreated One. With the single exception of the Second Adam, there never has been, in this beautiful world, so delightful an object of contemplation as the perfect character of the fiist man.

The first man was also created immortal. This soul of his was deathless. When the dust which contained it, “returned to the earth as it was, the spirit returned to God who gave it.” Its very nature favors this thought; its instinctive dread of annihilation favors it; it is indicated still more clearly by its vast capacities, and more clearly still by the equal justice and vast designs of the divine government; but it finds its confirmation only in God’s revealed will. What he has created, he can annihilate; nor have we any certain evidence that he will not annihilate the mind of man, except his own declared purpose. From the fii’st moment of his creation, the first man bore the seal of heaven to his immortality. Nothing else bore this impress. The sun and the moon did not; they were made to be extinguished and set in darkness. The earth did not; it was made to wax old, and stagger like a drunken man, and be burnt up. Time did not; for time itself shall pass away and be no longer. But in an the first as well as the last, was formed the inheritor of eternity. Once created, by the decree of his eternal Author, he shall never be blotted out of being. That same first man into whose nostrils God breathed the breath of life now lives. Six thousand years have passed away, and his existence is but just begun. Long since did lie slough off this body of earth, and come forth pure and happy, robed in light, and crowned with more than his pristine honor and glory. Nor shall he ever lose the high attribute of his immortality.

Thus created and thus endued, he was constituted the deputed lord of this loioer creation. He came from his Maker’s hands to take his place at the head of the kingdoms of natui-e and the whole animal world. Everything around him recognized his authority and influence. They were his property, and he had a right to use them as his own. The law of their being was that they were all to be subservient to man.

God gave man this dominion when he gave him his first blessing; and the gift is one which furnishes a beautiful illustration of the Creator’s bounty. Because there was nothing within the wide compass of the world he had made, which presented so noble a specimen of his finished workmanship as man, he thus honored him. The spacious earth, the trackless ocean, were his. Every other part of the creation was but the preface and the prelude to the more distinguished honor he thus put upon man. He was indeed but a single link in the chain of created things; but he was the last and most important link, and was placed at the head of the creation itself. “The heaven and the heaven of heavens,” says the Psalmist, “are the Lord’s, but the earth hath he given to the chiklren of men.” Everything was made subject to his usefulness, his enjoyment, and his sway. Nor were these rights which he ever would have claimed but for God, nor have dared to exercise without the divine permission. Nor would the material and animal creation have been thus subservient, but for its Maker’s high command. But God gave man this high precedence, and made him the world’s monarch and proprietor. Though in size, and strength, and swiftness, he was inferior to a multitude of the animal creation, they were to be his subjects. He was crowned this earth’s emperor, and it is a part of his mission to exercise this authority. It is a commission, too, which he has executed. Animal tribes have made war upon him; but there are none so fell and savage that he has not the skill and power to tame or subdue. The “fear of man and the dread of man” is, to the present hour, upon every class of animal existence. Man’s voice is their law, and man’s presence their restraint; they do his bidding, he does not theirs. With a supremacy to be maintained until the dissolution of all things, man is preeminent in his authority over them all, and not more certainly does the foot of man encroach upon the wilderness where they roam, and the voice of man is heard amid their forest recesses, than they gradually retire to the more remote deserts.

This delegated authority is expressed in very comprehensive terms. “Subdue the earth and have dominion,” is broad enough to cover every enterprise which employs human ingenuity and labor. The sun now shines for man, and the rains descend, and day and night, summer and winter, seed-time and harvest, do not cease. The earth on which he treads is barren, or fruitful, as he cultivates it; it ministers to his necessities, his comforts, his luxury, his wealth, as he wills it. Every department of the material creation, from the bowels of the earth to its verdure, fruits, and flowers, and even its circumambient atmosphere, are placed under tribute to man. Man’s great mission is, in humble dependence upon his Maker, in the fear and love of God, and in grateful acknowledgment of his goodness, to go forth and subdue it. And as the result of this munificence, the mind, the eye, the hand of man, have been directed to wondrous achievements. Had we li ved in the earlier and more rude states of society, we might well have doubted if it were possible for him to effect what we now know he has effected, and what we see him performing every day. Pie has felled the forests, and made the wilderness blossom as the rose; and through him the solitary place has been made glad. He has founded empires, erected pyramids and towers, and beautified the earth with cottage and palace. He has rechiimed the wandering savage of his own species, called into existence and governed political communities, given to social life the security of its laws, and adorned it with the arts and refinement of civilization, science, and religion. He has scanned the heavens, penetrated the earth, and navigated its seas. He has converted deserts into cities, made islands in the ocean, and turned in the sea upon the solid land. He has shown that the animal and vegetable kingdoms are made to balance and sustain each other, according to general laws; he has recorded the general facts or results which proceed from the skilful adjustment in the natural world made by the great Creator. By his advancement in science and the arts, he has contended successfully with the elements of nature, and decomposed or combined them, neutralized them or given them vigor. By his acquaintance with the laws of mechanism and motion, he has asserted his power over the material world, and directed its agencies almost at his pleasure. The analytical powers of his mind have been successfully employed in pursuits that have furnished noble specimens of thought and intellect. He has busied himself with whatever can be numbered and measured, and with a clearness, caution, and accuracy that have surpassed even his own hopes. The painted canvass, the sculptured marble, receive life and beauty from his hands; while he so concentrates and directs the scattered rays of the light of heaven, that, at his bidding, they perform more accurate and delicate tracings. There is no enterprise, and no sphere of knowledge, in which he has been employed, which has not acknowledged his authority. Prose has recorded his deeds, and they have been sung in poetry. Libraries are the monuments of his toil and perseverance; alcove upon alcove, in the deep recesses of time, have treasured up the records of his dominion. This dominion is man’s immunity as God’s creature; he has a divine right to it, because he is a man. He is a prince in earth’s empire, and not a subject. He has but one superior; he himself is sovereign in the dominion thus delegated to him by the great Lord of all.

There is one more thought which here deserves consideration, and that is, that this first man was lhQ parent of the race. This thought must furnish the subject of our next chapter. In the mean time, we may not dismiss our general topic, without a single reflection.

We are men. Yet is there something within us that forces the conviction upon our minds, that our honor is tarnished. The comeliness of our humanity is obscured; its high adornment is departed. O, why is it, that we cannot look toward heaven without the blush of shame upon our cheek! Some foul enemy has been busy with our race. “Man that is in honor abode not.” Sin has effected this mournful degradation in this highest and noblest work of God. “The crown is fallen from our head; woe unto us, for we have sinned!” Yet are we not outcasts, and banished like Cain. Everlasting thanks to God, this reproach of humanity may be wiped away. Man’s nature is even more than ever dignified by its alliance with the second Adam, who, when it lost all its redeeming qualities, embodied it with his own, and for disgrace gave it honor. It was the promise to the first man, that there should be One, “of woman born,” who would rescue from degradation and shame. He has rescued. Multitudes have by him been made kings and priests to God, and live and reign with him forever. Self-respect ought to make every man a Christian. He must forget that he is a man and lose all consciousness of his real worth, if he aim not thus at humanity’s prize and high calling. An unchristian man! no, let me not be an unchristian man. An unchristian life, an unchristian death, an unchristian eternity, O my soul, come not thou into their secret, to their assembly, mine honor be not thou united! The time is coming when such a man will be indeed dishonored. No voice of love will greet him in his exile, and his punishment will be greater than he can bear. The star of hope will never rise over his dark way in that far-off land of sin and shame.

Seek then to elevate the intellectual above the animal, the moral above the physical, the spiritual and eternal above the material and temporal. The redemption that has been achieved for man, more than all things else, indicates his destiny. His aspirations and hopes indicate it; it remains for him to watch and pray that he commit not the suicidal act of destroying his own soul.