been a profanation to ascribe this Divine resemblance to Cain the fratricide, who soon forgot his higher origin, sank into a fearful abyss of degeneracy, and even destroyed wantonly an “image of God." But, although the heavenly outlines were obliterated in the vicious mind of Cain, they had originally existed there; he also had inherited the Divine likeness; every human being, however base and abject, is a work of the holy Creator; although Cain, therefore, had a large portion of the weakness of the woman, although he succumbed under the temptation, like his mother Eve, and although he was, like her, the cause of premature death: he possessed a Divine spark which could not entirely be extinguished, which was even capable of being rekindled to feelings of repentance and atonement; and justly, therefore, might Eve impart to him a name which describes his double descent both from her, and from God.

The principal stress in the words of Eve lies on: "I have acquired," not on "a man." Although the Hebrew families exulted with greater joy at the birth of a son than of a daughter, since sons preserve the name of the father, propagate his race, and promise naturally a more powerful support to the parents: the mother alludes here rejoicingly to the birth of a child in general, an offspring of her womb, and a gift of God; she calls this child Cain, or Acquisition; the name expresses merely gratitude and satisfaction; it contains no allusion whatever to the sex of the child; when her next son, Seth, intended to replace Abel, was born, it is simply stated that Adam became father, and the following name only shows the sex of the child: the joy of Eve may have been enhanced by the circumstance that she had given birth to a son; but both in her heart and in her words that feeling was overbalanced by the more universal delight of having become a

mother. The privilege of naming the child was, by the Hebrews, often yielded to the wife; the offspring to which she gave birth renewed and strengthened the affection of her husband; it was for her a time of pride and gratification: and this is another proof of the respect with which the Hebrew women were treated.

2. Labour had commenced. It was necessary to cultivate nature with exertion, and to subdue the animal creation in order to obtain a sufficient sustenance. The treasures of the earth were ransacked, and the tribes of the plains and forests were subjected. Agriculture and breeding of cattle were the earliest occupations which necessity dictated. Man was taught the former by nature herself which, in autumn, casts numberless seeds upon the fields, in order to revive them in the following spring as plants of beauty or utility: and in the latter he was his own instructor; he felt his superiority over many animals; he conquered them easily, attached them to himself, and made them serve his use. First he subjected the weaker and tamer animals; Abel was a "keeper of sheep"; he was, no doubt, for a considerable time satisfied with their milk and their wool; much later only he found their flesh tasteful and healthy; he learnt to prepare it; and deemed it a fit and worthy offering of gratitude which he owed to the Deity. The eldest son of the first human pair followed the occupation of his father; he was, like him, guided by the example of nature; he was a busbandman. The second son advanced an important step; he began to submit to his authority a part of the animate creation; he commenced to prove, that man is not only the possessor, but the ruler of the earth; and he became a herdsman.

3-8. God blessed the activity of both brothers; they knew that He alone is the source of success and prosperity; and

they felt the desire of acknowledging His sovereignty by presenting to Him the best part of their property. The first sacrifices were offered. They were not commanded, but spontaneous gifts; they were dictated by no other sentiment but that of gratitude, in which a feeling of humble dependence, and, perhaps, the wish of further success secretly mingled. Thus far, both brothers were equally righteous and equally pious. But yet God accepted Abel's offering only, whilst He rejected that of Cain. Why was this the case? The text gives no direct clue; and conjecture has been busy to discover a reason. At present, it is customary to say that God intended to show that He preferred the magnificent animal sacrifices to the comparatively poor vegetable offerings; or that the Hebrew writer wished to sanction his system of sacrificial laws by a striking instance taken from the history of the earliest generations. But supposing even that God feels that preference, where did He intimate it to the first men? If Cain offered his first-fruits with the same cheerful good-will as Abel brought the firstlings of his flock and their fat, why should his gifts be less acceptable? "Does God delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices so much as in obedience? Is not obedience better than sacrifice, and attention to His will better than the fat of rams"? (1 Sam. xv. 22). And should not God look even with greater benevolence upon a vegetable offering, produced with sweat and toil from the stubborn earth, which had just been laden with the curse of sterility, than upon the firstlings of the flock, which were bred in a life of ease and leisure; for which "man had neither toiled, nor which he had reared "?-Or should Cain alone bear the malediction laid upon the soil on account of his parents' sin? Did he not, on the con

trary, deserve higher praise, since he did not try to evade, but to counterbalance and alleviate its effect? We can, therefore, find the reason of the rejection of Cain's offering neither in its objects nor in his own vocation as agriculturist. And yet we must expect impartial justice in the Divine acts. And this justice will be manifest, if we but correctly understand the words which God addressed to Cain, when He perceived his anger and ominous despondency: "If thou doest well, wilt thou not find acceptance? But if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door." It is, then, evident that the heart of Cain had no more been pure; that it had been imbued with a criminal propensity; that this sin made the favourable acceptance of his offering impossible; that his gift would have been as delightful in the eyes of God as that of Abel, if it had proceeded from a mind unstained by vicious thoughts. But Cain was grateful to God; he brought Him, as a mark of his gratitude, of the produce of his labour; he valued His applause highly, and His displeasure shed a gloom of wretchedness over his soul. He must, then, have sinned, not against God, but against man. And here the supposition is obvious, that envy and jealousy had long filled the heart of Cain, when he contrasted his laborious and toilsome life with the pleasant and easy existence of his brother Abel. With incessant exertion, tormented by anxiety, and helplessly dependent on the uncertainty of the skies, he forced a scanty subsistence out of the womb of the repugnant soil; whilst his brother enjoyed a life of security and abundance, in the midst of rich valleys, beautiful hills, and charming rural scenes. And while he envied Abel's prosperity, he despised his idleness, which was indebted for the necessaries of life to the liberality of nature, rather than to personal exertions. Thus.

hatred and jealousy took root in Cain's heart. He beheld the happiness of his brother with the feelings of an enemy. The joy at the success of his own labours was embittered by the aspect of his brother's greater affluence. How could God look with delight upon an offering which the offerer himself did not regard with unalloyed satisfaction? How could He encourage by His applause a man whose heart was poisoned by the mean and miserable passion of envy? Is not jealousy a sure indication of a dissatisfied mind? Could, then, the gratitude which Cain owed to God be pure and noble, when it was contaminated by the sickly hue of rancour? It was from this reason that God said to Cain: "If thou doest well, wilt thou not find acceptance?" The rejection of his offering was, therefore, a proof of Cain's sinful disposition.

But it was more; it was an admonition to banish low sentiments from his heart; it was a warning, that if iniquity was not eradicated from the bosom in the very germ, it would, with its luxuriant weeds, soon destroy all its health and vigour. God's answer contained the grave lesson, that one evil deed is always the parent of other and greater sins; that it is extremely difficult to arrest the demoniac power of wickedness in its baneful career: "if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door." Envy ended with murder; the noxious root had matured a poisonous fruit; moral disease finished with moral death. It impressed the momentous truth, that sin has the irresistible propensity of attacking and tempting the heart of man; that an eternal warfare is roused in his bosom from the moment that sin first enters it; "that its desire is to him." But since every human heart encloses the seed of evil, this struggle agitates, though in very various forms, every man; it is the main element of his

internal life; it is the principal task of his spiritual existence to proceed as conqueror out of these severe combats; therefore God said, in conclusion, to Cain, more as an encouragement than a reproach: "but thou shalt rule over it"; it was still in his power to obtain a triumph; if he was unable to destroy the enemy, he might, at least, disarm him; if he could not expel him entirely, he might, at least, prevent his progress.

These serious and emphatic warnings seemed to have produced the desired effect upon Cain's mind. He spoke in a friendly and benevolent tone to his more favoured brother; he silenced, for a moment, the turbulent voice of hatred; and both turned reconciled to their occupations "in the field." But when, there, Cain again saw his brother, perhaps, cheerfully repose in the shadow of a far-spreading tree, his flock pasturing calmly and peacefully around him, whilst he himself toiled, with his imperfect instruments, either to "sow the seeds with tears," or to gather in the scanty crop with sorrow; the old feelings of bitterness were revived; the Divine admonitions were effaced; sin attacked him anew; its "desire was upon him"; and, in a moment of infatuation, he killed him whom Providence had destined to teach him new feelings of tenderness, and whose love ought to have been to him the best and earliest school of humanity.

This appears to be the internal meaning of our narrative; and, thus understood, it offers a very appropriate connection with the preceding section. The last chapters described the origin of sin; our narrative develops its progress. Eve was tempted by an external object of pleasure, Cain allowed his heart to be impregnated with the poison of jealousy; the mother was disobedient in the hope of obtaining a high intellectual boon, the son sinned

merely to destroy the happiness of another without thereby increasing his own; the former brought death into the world, the latter murder. The sin of Eve marked the period when the innocence of childhood is endangered by the consciousness of good and evil, and when the first act of free-will is also the first error; the deed of Cain describes the more advanced epoch of manhood when the strife and struggle with practical life is hottest; when the heart is assailed by numberless perils and collisions; when ambition excites the imagination; and the warfare of competition taxes and stimulates all the energies of man. The first sin was against God; the second both against God, and a brother. But the source of either was the covetous desire of the heart. The Bible reminds man incessantly, that within himself is the spring of life and death.

The first death was a premature one; Abel was taken from the earth at an early period of his life; his very name expresses his short and fleeting existence; his sinful parents and the fratricide Cain survived him for a considerable period. But the early death of Abel could be no punishment; he seemed, in fact, to enjoy the particular favour of God; his offering was graciously accepted. We find, therefore, in our narrative the great and beautiful thought, that life is not the highest boon; that the pious find a better existence, and a more blissful reward in another and purer sphere; but that crime and guilt are the greatest evils, that they are punished by a long, wearisome life, full of fear and care, and compunctions of conscience. Innocence is more precious than many years, and to suffer is better than to domineer.

We may notice the fact, that in our narrative a particular stress seems to be laid upon the word brother. A certain emphasis is evidently intended by this striking repetition; it implies the soul-stirring antithesis, that the brother, the best and most faithful companion of life, was the first who succumbed to the murderous weapon; that the ties which nature had lovingly woven were wantonly torn by nature her. self; that the two chief occupations of rural tribes which ought to complete and to assist each other, like the helping hands of brothers, were from the beginning doomed to mutual jealousy and to sanguinary hatred. If the flocks, by chance, strayed upon the cultivated ground of the husbandman, a deadly strife commenced, and the shepherd as well as the flock were frequently the victims of the hardy labourer, whose soul easily lost its native gentleness by continuous and wearisome labour, and by the permanent struggle with the sterile or weed-covered soil.

9-12. The earth had, for the first time, been stained with human blood. An image of God had been destroyed. A feeling of horror and detestation moves the historian. Nowhere does he rise to a more powerful emphasis than when denouncing the nefariousness of murder. It is an impious attack against the sacredness of God Himself. The voice of the blood cries up to heaven, and demands expiation. The earth has opened her womb to receive the body of a brother. The punishment of Cain is pronounced with an energy which overwhelms even his obdurate mind. He feels the weight of his sin, and the magnitude of the sufferings which he has deserved; and he regains his tranquillity only by a re-assuring sign

of God.-The earth was now burthened with a double curse. It was overspread with thorns and thistles, and was polluted by the blood of a pious relative; it had hitherto only been repugnant, it now became impure; and, instead of a nutritive grain, it had received a destroyed human life. Blood had been sown, and misery in abundance was the melancholy harvest.

The crime must be avenged. God Himself appears to perform this unwelcome act of justice. At first, the murderer, impelled by cowardice and fear, attempts to evade the Divine retribution. He affects innocence. The first sinners 66 were ashamed" after their disobedience; they hid themselves, and evaded the presence of God. But Cain met the voice of God with barefaced boldness: "Am I my brother's keeper?" The monster, Sin, had advanced a significant step. But God, without stopping to reproach him with this new offence, states his crime in terms of unmitigated severity. He describes it as an act of the utmost atrocity, horrifying even inanimate nature. And He proceeds at once to name the wellmerited punishment. Cain shall be exiled from the land of his parents; he shall wander through the earth without ever finding abodes entirely to his satisfaction; he, the agriculturist, who, above all other men, requires fixed and settled habitations for the success of his labours, shall be doomed to roam over spacious tracts for the pursuit of his occupation. To remain on the spot where the nefarious deed of fratricide had been committed, would have been impossible. Could he be happy on the scene of his degeneracy? or could the soil which had been polluted with human blood yield its strength to

the murderer? The land which witnesses the abomination of bloodshed "vomits out" its inhabitants (see note on ix. 5-7). Cain is, therefore, "cursed away from the land which had opened its mouth to receive his brother's blood;" he shall wander as a homeless vagabond, an object both of aversion and of pity. Hence the meaning of the much-disputed words: "cursed art thou from the land," is clear; they imply the beautiful idea,that the sad reminiscences of guilt banish the sinner away even from the dear scenes of childhood; that the never-slumbering associations of crime persecute the miserable sinner who flies from land to land, vainly hoping to escape the scourges of a burthened conscience. The connection between a man and the spot in which he abandoned himself to wickedness is for ever severed. Such a place scarcely can endure, much less support or cheer him. And thus was Cain compelled to leave the house of his parents, because his crime had spread grief among them, and had stained the soil on which they dwelt; just as Israel was later banished from the Holy Land, because it had beheld their evil deeds, and was defiled with the blood of civil wars.

13-16. Cain is threatened with flight and exile. He cannot bear the idea of a roaming life. He feels that he is, as it were, banished from the presence of God; for he has forfeited His favour. Thus, after the Divine punishment has been pronounced, rises within him that sentiment of shame, which his parents had experienced and evinced immediately after their sin, and he exclaims: "I must hide myself before Thy face." But fear mingles with the gloomy anticipation of