After the Lord God had formed man, we read that He “planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there He put the man.” What pen could describe the garden of the Lord’s planting? There were splashing fountains. There were woodbine, and honeysuckles, and morning-glories climbing over the wall, and daisies, and buttercups, and strawberries in the grass. There were paths with mountain mosses, bordered with pearls and diamonds. Here and there cooling streams sparkled in the sunlight or made sweet music as they fell over ledges and rippled away under the overstretching shadows of palm trees or fig orchards, and their threads of silver finally lost amid the fruitage of orange groves. Trees and shrubs of infinite variety added their beauty to the many picturesque scenes everywhere spread out. In the midst of the overhanging foliage were all the bright birds of heaven, and they stirred the air with infinite chirp and carol. Never since have such skies looked down through such leaves into such waters. Never has river wave had such curve and sheen and bank as adorned the Pison, the Havilah, the Gihon and the Hiddekel, even the pebbles being bdellium and onyx stone. What fruits, with no curculio to sting the rind! What flowers, with no slug to gnaw the root! What atmosphere, with no frost to chill and with no heat to consume! Bright colors tangled in the grass. Perfume filled the air. Music thrilled the sky. Great scenes of gladness and love and joy spread out in every direction. We know not how long, perhaps ever since this man had been created in the “image” of his God, he had wandered through this Eden home, had watched the brilliant pageantry of wings and scales and clouds, and may have noticed that the robins fly the air in twos, and that the fish swim the waters in twos, and that the lions walk the fields in twos, and as he saw the merry, abounding life of his subject creatures, every one perfectly fitted to its environment, and each mated with another of the same instincts and methods of living, he felt the isolation of his own self-involved being, and, possibly, a shadow of loneliness may have crept into his face, and God saw it. And so He said, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” So “He caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam,” as if by allegory to teach all ages that the greatest of earthly blessings is sound sleep. When he awoke, a most beautiful being, the crowning glory of creation, stood beside him, looking at him with heaven in her eyes, her exquisite form draped with perfect feminine grace and strength. As Adam looked into the face of this immaculate daughter of God, this Woman in White Raiment, he said, “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called Woman” (Hebrew Isha), because God had clothed in separate flesh the gentler and more conscientious part of Adam’s nature, that it might share the work and bliss of Paradise.