CHAPTER XVII.

MAN'S FALLEN STATE; OR, THE DEPOSED MINISTER.

QUESTION XVII. _Into what estate did the fall bring mankind?_

ANSWER. The fall brought mankind into an estate of sin and misery.

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IT was a rare event in the family of Mr. Dermott for the children to disagree to such an extent as to use unkind words. They had early been taught the beauty of yielding to each other's wishes, and thus gaining a conquest over themselves. With Isabelle's quiet temperament, this was comparatively easy; but with Walter and Helen it was far more difficult, as they were naturally hasty and impulsive, often reminding their father of his own youth by their striking similarity to himself.

On the very afternoon of the catechising, however, Walter came in from his play somewhat out of temper, and, taking a book from Anna's hands, sat down to read. The tears quickly filled the eyes of the little girl; but Helen loudly remonstrated, "How unkind you are, Walter, when Anna is just in the midst of a story!"

"So am I," replied the boy, petulantly, "and it's my book."

"I lent you my new one before I had read it myself," sobbed Anna.

"Here, take it, then!" exclaimed Walter, angrily. "Such a fuss when a boy sits down to read his own book!" And he threw the volume into the lap of the weeping girl.

"You're an ugly boy," cried his sister. "Anna and I were having a real nice time, when you came in—and spoiled it all. Mother says she wishes you would govern your temper."

Walter got up, and was walking angrily out of the room, when he met his mother. She saw at once that there had been trouble, and, taking him gently by the hand, requested him to return. With a few judicious words, she soon succeeded in quieting the ruffled waves, and in fifteen minutes the children were sitting lovingly together—the boy with his arm thrown around his cousin's neck, and reading from the same page.

In the evening, when they had seated themselves for their favorite exercise, Mrs. Dermott asked, "Helen, can you tell me, my dear, where was the first quarrel?"

The little girl arched her eyebrows and shook her head.

"It was in the garden of Eden, my child, immediately after the first pair had partaken of the forbidden fruit."

Helen's face was crimson, and she quickly replied, "I didn't begin the quarrel, mother."

"Well, you called me names," replied Walter, looking very much ashamed.

"Stop at once!" exclaimed Mr. Dermott. "Or we will discontinue the lesson."

"Do you understand, Anna," inquired Mrs. Dermott, "what is meant by the fall?"

"No, aunt, not exactly."

"You know Adam and Eve were created in the image of their Maker, in knowledge, righteousness and holiness. By their disobedience they were cast down from their high estate; and this is called the fall. Milton and Beaumont thus graphically describe it:—

"'Her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate; Earth felt the wound, and Nature, from her seat Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.'

"'Up went her desperate hand, and reached away All the world's bliss, when she the apple took; When, lo, the earth did move, the heavens did stay, Beasts and birds shivered, absent Adam shook.'"

"I remember well," remarked Mr. Dermott, "that there was a great excitement about a minister who had for many years been settled in the town adjoining the one where your mother and I lived. For a year he had been absent from his people, soliciting funds from the churches for some charitable object. At length it was ascertained that he had appropriated almost all the money he had raised to his own use, and thus been guilty of breaking the eighth commandment. A council of ministers was called, who took away his license, and deposed him from the pastoral office. This was called his fall; and I remember afterwards hearing my father ask,—

"'Where is Mr. Monson?'

"The gentleman replied, 'After his fall, he removed his family from town, and for months we have heard nothing from him.'"

"By what was the fall of Adam followed?"

"By additional sin and misery."

"Do these always go together?"

"Yes, sir," replied Helen.

"How did sin and misery first exhibit themselves?"

"I don't know, sir," answered Walter; "but I should think when Cain killed Abel."

"It was long before that. Soon after Eve had persuaded her husband to partake with her of the fruit of the forbidden tree, she heard God calling,—

"'Adam, hast thou eaten of the tree whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldst not eat?'

"And he said, 'The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, end I did eat.'

"In this reply, he not only endeavored to shield himself from responsibility by throwing the blame upon his wife, but he virtually reproached God—'the woman whom thou gavest me.' 'If I had been alone, I never should have done it; but she tempted me, and I could not resist.'

"And the Lord God said unto the woman, 'What is this that thou hast done?'

"And the woman said, 'The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat.'

"Neither would she bear the blame, but cast it upon another. How much better would it have been for them to cast themselves down at the feet of their Maker, and confess their guilt! How unkind for Adam not to try to shield his wife! But such were the early fruits of sin. No doubt after this, there were many unkind words and feelings between the once happy pair.

"The next occasion of quarrelling which is recorded in Scripture is the melancholy story of Cain and Abel. The dreadful plague of sin, which they had inherited from their parents, had sprung up in their own hearts, and in Cain it yielded bitter fruit, bringing misery and death into their household."

"Who can doubt," remarked Mrs. Dermott, "that the fall brought mankind into a state of sin and misery when he looks around and realizes that but for sin there would be no wars, no armies, no hospitals?"

"No prisons, jails nor houses of correction," added her husband. "There would be no physicians, because there would be no sickness nor suffering; no orphan asylums nor houses for the blind; no unhappy marriages; no deeds, nor bonds, nor suits at law; and no divorces, no murders, thefts, nor backbitings; no quarrels between children, nor throwing the blame upon each other. There would have been no need of the spilling of a Saviour's blood, for man would have been at peace with his Maker. No; the world would present one glorious scene of holiness, and happiness, a heaven upon earth, the delight of angels and of God himself. The joy of one would make more complete the bliss of all. The beasts of the field, instead of preying upon each other, would find their appropriate food growing spontaneously upon the earth. The lion would lie down with the lamb, and a little child would lead them."

"Our sins, like to our shadows When our day is in its glory, scarce appear; Toward our evening, how great and monstrous They are!"