attributes cluster. From him those rays of grandeur and beauty shine forth to fill heaven and earth with his glory. Angels gaze with delight upon the brightness of the Father's face, and seraph hearts burn with love as his perfections beam eternally upon them. And I ask, why is it that the sons of God who have never swerved from the purity of their first estate, will study the character of God and love it the more, the more they learn; while man, who has revolted from God, will hate him the more his attributes are revealed. If angels love their Maker supremely, why should not you? Are you more capable of judging what is lovely than they? Are your obligations less than theirs? For you God has done what he never has done and never will do for them; and the obligation that draws you to him is stronger than any other chain which extends from his throne to a created heart.

Thus it appears, that if we study the character of God, we find in him all those perfections, which ought to engage the undivided love of every creature in the moral universe.

Therefore, God has a claim upon you, both from what he is, and what he has done. Can the claim be strengthened? Let us go one step further.

Your own interest requires you to love and obey your heavenly Father. You desire to be happy here and hereafter. But to be happy you must be holy, and to be holy you must forsake sin, and love the Lord with all your heart. Would you know what fruits of joy and peace will spring from love to God in the heart of man, look back to the morning of this world's being, when man rejoiced in the smiles of bis Maker, and delighted to hold communion with him as friend with friend. It is hard for us, in our present sinful state, to form an adequate conception of the happiness that reigned in the human heart, and spread itself over the pathway of man, before he broke his Father's law, and became a wanderer from his home. In the garden of Eden there was every thing provided to make him blest for whom all was made. The flowers bloomed in beauty at his feet; delicious fruit hung in rich abundance around him; the

air of heaven was balmy, and its light was sweet. The birds of the air and the beasts of the field were his friends.

He awoke in the morning and rejoiced in the goodness and loving-kindness of his Father in heaven. He, whose servants were angels, delighted to come down in the cool of the day, and walk in that garden, and hold social converse with his creature man. The heart of that creature must have been full of praise. And God saw that it was not good for man to be alone, and he gave unto him one to share his joy. Now it was Paradise. There was no holier, happier heaven than Eden. Man, in the image of God, grew in knowledge, and holiness, and happiness, as day by day his powers enlarged and took in new supplies from the great Fountain of light and love. How could it be otherwise? The friend of God, surrounded by all that heart could wish or hope, why did he not continue to be thus for ever blest. Immortal youth bloomed on him; no pain, disease, or danger threatened him; heaven was his on earth, and eternal life opened on his unclouded

But in that bright morning of his existence man enjoyed no more than would have been the portion of his posterity had he continued to love and serve his Maker. This was his tremendous responsibility. God laid on him the mighty trust of standing there in the garden, at the head of the human race, to act for himself and those who should come after him. He abused the trust, and involved himself and his children in the ruins of that sad fall. Our first parent knew that on him was laid the weight of a world's immortal hopes, and as he looked upon the forbidden fruit, he felt that by obeying the command of God, he would secure for himself and his posterity a title to everlasting life, while disobedience would bring on him and them the curse of offended justice, the righteous indignation of a holy God. All this he saw and felt, when he put forth his hand to commit the first sin that stained this virgin world. But with madness, just like that which marks the transgression of every sinner who breaks the law of God, he ventured on the awful experiment.

"He plucked, he ate

Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost."

From that dark hour to this, the consequences of that one sin have flowed like a river of death over the natural and moral world. The beauty of Eden withered as if the desert blast had smitten it. Thorns and briers sprang up and grew in the pathway of man. The fruits of the earth no longer came at his bidding, but were to be earned by the sweat of his brow. Disease, and pain, and want, and death, a long sad train of wretchedness and woe, followed him as he went forth into the wilderness of a desert world, a prodigal from his Father, an outcast from paradise, an heir of hell. Sin was his curse. His sin proved his misery. It alienated his Father's heart, it poisoned the cup of his domestic peace, it enfeebled his body, beclouded his mind, strewed his way with pains, and fears, and woes, and exposed him to misery more exquisite and overwhelming hereafter.