It is plain that the temptation under
which man fell in paradise was this, an ambitious
curiosity after knowledge which was not allowed him:
next came the desire of the eyes and the flesh, but
the forbidden tree was called the tree of knowledge;
the Tempter promised knowledge; and after the
fall Almighty God pronounced, as in the text, that
man had gained it. “Behold, the man is
become as one of Us, to know good and evil.”
You see it is said, “man is
become as one of Us, to know good and evil,”
because God does know evil as well as good. This
is His wonderful incommunicable attribute; and man
sought to share in what God was, but he could not
without ceasing to be what God was also, holy and
perfect. It is the incommunicable attribute of
God to know evil without experiencing it. But
man, when he would be as God, could only attain the
shadow of a likeness which as yet he had not, by losing
the substance which he had already. He shared
in God’s knowledge by losing His image.
God knows evil and is pure from it man
plunged into evil and so knew it.
Our happiness as well as duty lies
in not going beyond our measure in being
contented with what we are with what God
makes us. They who seek after forbidden knowledge,
of whatever kind, will find they have lost their place
in the scale of beings in so doing, and are cast out
of the great circle of God’s family.
It is, I say, God’s incommunicable
attribute, as He did not create, so not to experience
sin and as He permits it, so also to know
it; to permit it without creating it, to know it without
experiencing it a wonderful and incomprehensible
attribute truly, yet involved, perhaps, in the very
circumstance that He permits it. For He is every
where and in all, and nothing exists except in and
through Him. Mysterious as it is, the very prison
beneath the earth, its chains and fires and impenitent
inmates, the very author of evil himself, is sustained
in existence by God, and without God would fall into
nothing. God is in hell as well as in heaven,
a thought which almost distracts the mind to think
of. The awful God! “Whither shall
I go from Thy Spirit, or whither shall I go from Thy
Presence? If I climb up into heaven, Thou art
there; if I go down to hell, Thou art there also.”
Where life is, there is He; and though it be but
the life of death the living death of eternal
torment He is the principle of it.
And being thus intimately present with the very springs
of thought, and the first elements of all being, being
the sustaining cause of all spirits, whether they
be good or evil, He is intimately present with evil,
being pure from it and knows what it is,
as being with and in the wretched atoms which originate
it.
If there be this sort of connexion
between God’s knowledge and sufferance of evil,
see what an ambition it was in our first parents to
desire to know it without experiencing it; it was,
indeed, to desire to be as gods, to know
the secrets of the prison-house, and to see the worm
that dieth not, yet remain innocent and happy.
This they understood not; they desired
something which they knew not that they could not
have, remaining as they were; they did not see how
knowledge and experience went together in the case
of human nature; and Satan did not undeceive them.
They ate of the tree which was to make them wise,
and, alas! they saw clearly what sin was, what shame,
what death, what hell, what despair. They lost
God’s presence, and they gained the knowledge
of evil. They lost Eden, and they gained a conscience.
This, in fact, is the knowledge of
good and evil. Lost spirits do not know good.
Angels do not know evil. Beings like ourselves,
fallen beings, fallen yet not cast away, know good
and evil; evil not external to them, nor yet one with
them; but in them, yet not simply of them. Such
was the fruit of the forbidden tree, as it remains
in us to this day.
We do not know in what the duty and
happiness of other beings consist; but at least this
seems to have been man’s happiness in Paradise,
not to think about himself or to be conscious of himself.
Such, too, to recur to the parallel especially suggested
on this day, seems to be the state of children.
They do not reflect upon themselves. Such, too,
seems to be the state of those orders of Angels whose
life is said to consist in contemplation for
what is contemplation but a resting in the thought
of God to the forgetfulness of self? Hence the
Saints are described as “Virgins who follow
the Lamb whithersoever He goeth.” But
Adam, discontented with what he was, pined after a
knowledge which he could not obtain from without which
he could only have from miserable experience within from
moral disorders within him, and from having his mind
drawn to the contemplation of himself in consequence
of those disorders. He obtained the wished for
knowledge; and his first recorded act afterwards was
one of reflection upon self, and he hid himself among
the trees of the garden. He was no longer fitted
for contemplating glories without him; his attention
was arrested to the shame that was upon him.
What is so miserably seen in the history
of our first parents has been the temptation and sin
of their posterity ever since, indulgence
in forbidden, unlawful, hurtful, unprofitable knowledge;
as some instances will show.
1. I ought to notice in the first
place that evil curiosity which stimulates young persons
to intrude into things of which it is their blessedness
to be ignorant. Satan gains our souls step by
step; and his first allurement is the knowledge of
what is wrong. He first tempts them to the knowledge,
and then to the commission of sin. Depend on
it that our happiness and our glory, in these matters,
is to be ignorant, as well as to be guiltless.
St. Paul says that “it is a shame even to speak”
of those things which are done by the sons of Belial
in secret. Oh, thoughtless, and worse, oh, cruel
to your own selves, all ye who read what ye should
not read, and hear what ye should not hear!
Oh, how will you repent of your folly afterwards!
Oh, what bitter feelings, oh, what keen pangs, will
shoot through your souls hereafter, at the memory,
when you look back, of what has come of that baneful
curiosity! Oh, how will you despise yourselves,
oh, how weep at what you have brought on you!
At this day surely there is a special need of this
warning; for this is a day when nothing is not pried
into, nothing is not published, nothing is not laid
before all men.
2. In the next place I would
observe, that the pursuit of science, which characterizes
these times, is very likely to draw us aside into a
sin of a particular kind, if we are not on our guard.
We read, in the book of Acts, of many who used curious
arts burning their books; that is, there are kinds
of knowledge which are forbidden to the Christian.
Now this seems strange to the world in this day.
The only forbidden subjects which they can fancy,
are such as are not true fictions,
impostures, superstitions, and the like.
Falsehood they think wrong; false religions, for
instance, because false. But they are
perplexed when told that there may be branches of
real knowledge, yet forbidden. Yet it has ever
been considered in the Church, as in Scripture, that
soothsaying, consulting the stars, magic, and similar
arts, are unlawful unlawful, even though
not false; and Scripture certainly speaks as if at
least some of them were more than merely a pretended
knowledge and a pretended power; whereas men now-a-days
have got to think that they are wrong, merely because
frauds and impostures; and if they found
them not so, they would be very slow to understand
how still they are unlawful. They have not mastered
the idea that real knowledge may be forbidden us.
3. Next it is obvious to speak
of those melancholy persons who boast themselves on
what they call their knowledge of the world and of
life. There are men, alas not a few, who look
upon acquaintance with evil as if a part of their
education. Instead of shunning vice and sin,
they try it, if for no other reason, simply for this that
they may have knowledge of it. They mix with
various classes of men, and they throw themselves
into the manners and opinions of all in turn.
They are ready-witted perhaps, prompt and versatile,
and easily adapt themselves so as to please and get
acquainted with those they fall in with. They
have no scruples of conscience hindering them from
complying with whatever is proposed; they are of any
form of religion, have lax or correct morals, according
to the occasion. They can revel with those that
revel, and they can speak serious things when their
society is serious. They travel up and down
the country perhaps, or they are of professions or
pursuits which introduce them to men of various languages,
or which take them abroad, and they see persons of
opposite creeds and principles, and whatever they
fall in with they take as so many facts, merely as
facts of human nature, not as things right or wrong
according to a certain fixed standard independent of
themselves. Now whatever of religion or truth
remains in our fallen nature is not on the surface:
these men, then, studying what is uppermost, are in
fact but studying all that is evil in man, and in consequence
they have very low notions of man. They are
very sceptical about the existence of principle and
virtue; they think all men equally swayed by worldly,
selfish, or sensual motives, though some hide their
motives better than others, or have feelings and likings
of a more refined character. And having given
in to sin themselves, they have no higher principle
within them to counteract the effect of what they
see without; all their notions of man’s nature,
capabilities, and destinies, are derived from, and
are measured by, what goes on in the world, and accordingly
they apply all their knowledge to bad purposes.
They think they know, and they do know too truly
on the whole, the motives and inducements which will
prevail with men; and they use their knowledge to overreach,
deceive, seduce, corrupt, or sway those with whom they
have to do.
4. Another very different class
of persons who study evil, and pride themselves upon
it, and are degraded by it, are those who indulge
themselves in contemplating and dwelling on the struggle
between right and wrong in their own minds.
There have been from time to time men of morbid imaginations,
of any or no religious creed, who have so exercised
themselves. Indeed there has been a large school
of writers in very various departments, for years,
I may say centuries past, though happily they are
diminishing now, who delight in bringing out into
open day all the weaknesses and inconsistencies of
human nature; nay worse, take pains to describe bad
men, and how they feel, and what they say; who interest
the mind in bad men, nay in bad Angels, as if Satan
might be thought of otherwise than with shuddering.
And there are others, men of mistaken religious views,
who think that religion consists in dwelling on and
describing the struggle between grace and corrupt
nature in the soul. Christ has brought us light
and life, and would have us put off what we are, and
follow Him, who knew no sin. But these men, far
from rising even to the aspiration after perfection,
do not advance in their notion of spiritual religion
beyond the idea of declaring and lamenting their want
of it. Confession is with them perfection; nay,
it is almost the test of a Christian, to be able to
discourse upon his inward corruption. It is well
to confess sin in detail with shame as an act of penitence;
it is a snare to speak of it vaguely and in public.
5. Lastly, even when used rightly,
the knowledge of sin is not without its danger.
As mediciners would not exist were there no illness
or disease, so it is mental disease which gives rise
to casuists. Pain leads us to think of our bodies,
and sin of our souls. Were our souls in perfect
harmony, they would act like an instrument in tune;
we should with difficulty divide the sounds, even
if we would; but it is the discordance, the jar within
us, which leads us to a serious contemplation of what
we are. The same remark obviously applies to
a great deal of theological knowledge, on which men
who have it are tempted to pride themselves; I mean
exact knowledge of hérésies and the like.
The love of God alone can give such knowledge its
right direction. There is the danger lest men
so informed find themselves scrutinizing when they
should be adoring, reasoning when they should be believing,
comparing when they should be choosing, and proving
when they should be acting. We know two things
of the Angels that they cry Holy, Holy,
Holy, and that they do God’s bidding. Worship
and service make up their blessedness; and such is
our blessedness in proportion as we approach them.
But all exercises of mind which lead us to reflect
upon and ascertain our state; to know what worship
is, and why we worship; what service is, and why we
serve; what our feelings imply, and what our words
mean, tend to divert our minds from the one thing
needful, unless we are practised and expert in using
them. All proofs of religion, evidences, proofs
of particular doctrines, scripture proofs, and the
like, these certainly furnish scope for
the exercise of great and admirable powers of mind,
and it would be fanatical to disparage or disown them;
but it requires a mind rooted and grounded in love
not to be dissipated by them. As for truly religious
minds, they, when so engaged, instead of mere disputing,
are sure to turn inquiry into meditation, exhortation
into worship, and argument into teaching.
Reflections such as these, followed
up, show us how different is our state from that for
which God made us. He meant us to be simple,
and we are unreal; He meant us to think no evil, and
a thousand associations, bad, trifling, or unworthy,
attend our every thought. He meant us to be
drawn on to the glories without us, and we are drawn
back and (as it were) fascinated by the miseries within
us. And hence it is that the whole structure
of society is so artificial; no one trusts another,
if he can help it; safeguards, checks, and securities
are ever sought after. No one means exactly what
he says, for our words have lost their natural meaning,
and even an Angel could not use them naturally, for
every mind being different from every other, they
have no distinct meaning. What, indeed, is the
very function of society, as it is at present, but
a rude attempt to cover the degradation of the fall,
and to make men feel respect for themselves, and enjoy
it in the eyes of others, without returning to God.
This is what we should especially guard against,
because there is so much of it in the world.
I mean, not an abandonment of evil, not a sweeping
away and cleansing out of the corruption which sin
has bred within us, but a smoothing it over, an outside
delicacy and polish, an ornamenting the surface of
things while “within are dead men’s bones
and all uncleanness;” making the garments, which
at first were given for decency, a means of pride
and vanity. Men give good names to what is evil,
they sanctify bad principles and feelings; and, knowing
that there is vice and error, selfishness, pride,
and ambition, in the world, they attempt, not to root
out these evils, not to withstand these errors; that
they think a dream, the dream of theorists who do
not know the world; but to cherish and form
alliance with them, to use them, to make a science
of selfishness, to flatter and indulge error, and
to bribe vice with the promise of bearing with it,
so that it does but keep in the shade.
But let us, finding ourselves in the
state in which we are, take those means which alone
are really left us, which alone become us. Adam,
when he had sinned, and felt himself fallen, instead
of honestly abandoning what he had become, would fain
have hid himself. He went a step further.
He did not give up what he now was, partly from dread
of God, partly from dislike of what he had been.
He had learnt to love sin and to fear God’s
justice. But Christ has purchased for us what
we lost in Adam, our garment of innocence. He
has bid us and enabled us to become as little children;
He has purchased for us the grace of simplicity,
which, though one of the highest, is very little thought
about, is very little sought after. We have,
indeed, a general idea what love is, and hope, and
faith, and truth, and purity, though a poor idea;
but we are almost blind to what is one of the first
elements of Christian perfection, that simple-mindedness
which springs from the heart’s being whole
with God, entire, undivided. And those who think
they have an idea of it, commonly rise no higher than
to mistake for it a mere weakness and softness of
mind, which is but its counterfeit. To be simple
is to be like the Apostles and first Christians.
Our Saviour says, “Be ye harmless,” or
simple, “as doves.” And St. Paul,
“I would have you wise unto that which is good,
and simple concerning evil.”
Again, “That ye may be blameless and
harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke,
in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation.”
And he speaks of the “testimony of” his
own “conscience, that in simplicity and
godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the
grace of God,” he had his conversation in the
world and towards his disciples. Let us pray
God to give us this great and precious gift; that
we may blot out from our memory all that offends Him;
unlearn all that knowledge which sin has taught us;
rid ourselves of selfish motives, self-conceit, and
vanity, littlenesses, envying, grudgings, meannesses;
turn from all cowardly, low, miserable ways; and escape
from servile fears, the fear of man, vague anxieties
of conscience, and superstitions. So that we
may have the boldness and frankness of those who are
as if they had no sin, from having been cleansed from
it; the uncontaminated hearts, open countenances, and
untroubled eyes of those who neither suspect, nor conceal,
nor shun, nor are jealous; in a word, so that we may
have confidence in Him, that we may stay on Him, and
rest in the thoughts of Him, instead of plunging amid
the thickets of this world; that we may bear His eye
and His voice, and know no knowledge but the knowledge
of Him and Jesus Christ crucified, and desire no objects
but what He has blessed and bid us pursue.