Is not the same deluding idea at the bottom of all our carelessness, our neglect of duty, our grasping at forbidden pleasure? "Thou shalt not surely die" has been the whisper of the Tempter from Eve's time till now. Let us answer him by pointing to that fruit. Was not the death of myriads enclosed, as it were, in its rind? Could the stain left by its fatal juice be washed out by floods of tears or rivers of blood? Had no sin but that one sin of plucking it been ever committed upon earth, could that sin have been atoned for by anything less than the sacrifice of an Incarnate God? Sin stands not alone by itself: as the seed is contained in the fruit, so one transgression is the parent of many. Coveting what God had withheld, longing for a luxury forbidden, ambitiously aiming at gaining knowledge which should make her independent as a God, Eve at once received into her heart "the lust of the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life." They came as guests—to remain as tyrants. When we feel their influence within ourselves, when covetousness, love of pleasure, or pride of intellect would draw us from our lowly allegiance to God, from our simple obedience to His word, let us look on the forbidden fruit and tremble—let us look on it, and watch and pray. The fruit of knowledge still, Plucked by pride, may death distil. When we make of intellect an idol; when we exalt reason above revelation, and would draw down God's hidden mysteries to the level of our finite comprehension, we are putting forth our hand, like Eve, to pluck and taste the forbidden fruit; forgetful of the warning of the Saviour: "He that receiveth not the kingdom of heaven as a little child shall in no wise enter therein." [Illustration] [Illustration] II. Cain's Offering. MORE of the fruits of the earth are here, though no longer the fruit of Eden. These, too, are rich and beautiful, and a special interest attaches to them, for they are the offering made to God by the first man who was ever born into a sinful world. Have we ever realized the feelings with which Adam and his wife must have watched the dawn of intellect in their firstborn son, or the mingled grief, shame, and hope, with which they would tell him the history of the Fall, and the mysterious promise linked with the sentence passed upon them by the righteous Judge? Did young Cain share the hope, which appears at one time to have been his mother's, that he should be the one to whom it would be given to set his foot upon the Serpent's head, and crush the Enemy of his race? We know not whether such thought as this ever passed through the mind of the boy, but he never seems to have entered, like his younger brother, into the solemn meaning of sacrifice for sin.