The Creator made both man and Serpent-devil, knowing just what would and must come to pass, and he did it all for his own glory. He also made hell for his own glory. Surely the Lord's ways are not our ways. For no Modoc Indian would entertain such a design toward his children, no matter how bad they might be, or how vicious his own nature. We cannot think of a creator without seeing that he as the author of all things, is responsible for good and evil, for right and wrong, for ignorance and knowledge, for truth and error. Man is therefore, no more responsible for his nature than a steam engine is responsible for its defects. The defects must be attributed to the maker in both cases. Adam knew good and evil without eating of the tree of knowledge. He had a brain, and his thoughts were imperfect; sometimes they were relatively correct, and then again they were wholly wrong or in error. This was knowing good and evil, therefore he knew good and evil without eating of the prohibited fruit, just as surely as he had a brain. The tree of knowledge is a very childish story. Knowledge does not grow on trees, nor does much of it exist in heads which entertain such fables as a divine revelation. Man was created with a brain to do his thinking and knowing, and by its very nature of knowing he must know good and evil, and yet he is cursed for knowing good and evil. As well might the Creator give the bird wings, toss it in the air and then damn it for flying. But even supposing the story to be true, namely, that the fruit of the tree made one to know good and evil, why should such desirable fruit be forbidden? What would the world be without the knowledge of good and evil? Man cannot know good without also knowing evil. They are inseparable. God himself knows good and evil, and if it is good for him to have such knowledge, then it surely must be good for you and me. The love of knowledge is the fountain of life. Man must have knowledge or his life is a mere cipher. All hail then to Mother Eve, who first tasted of the tree of knowledge, who first quenched her thirst at this fountain from which the whole race of thirsty souls have delighted to drink. Mythology abounds in stories about the gods; about their imperfections and weaknesses, but this account of the Serpent-devil and the tree of knowledge is the silliest fable of all, and has entailed indescribable misery upon the human race. The prohibition of knowledge has left an inherited twist in human nature. Even now in the afternoon of the nineteenth century mankind does not know much--and it is largely due to this first commandment not to partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. Has not the church always prohibited knowledge? Has she not stood in the way of every great reform? Knowledge is not important. Only believe. Believe in the Bible, but believe it only as the priest explains it.