are in the highest degree beautiful, because in the highest degree natural. No change of fashion can explode them, or refinements of taste supersede them. The grandeur and beauty they possessed, and the delight they imparted to the church when first spoken, they still retain, and will continue to possess, whilst time and eternity roll on. The charm of novelty adds nothing to their beauty, nor does increased acquaintance with them detract from their grandeur. They bear upon them the impress of the divine hand; and like the works of God, open a more copious fund of knowledge and delight, as our acquaintance with them becomes more extensive and interior.

The transcendent nature of the divine wisdom renders it necessary that it should be accommodated to human perception. The refulgence of truth must be modified, ere it can become the object of finite thought. The Word is the medium by which this is effected. In its pages truth is accommodated to the apprehension of created beings. From its spirit angelic beings draw their wisdom and intelligence, whilst in the letter it is the source of instruction to men. And what means can be better adapted for softening and modifying "that light," which, as it exists in its source in the divine mind, no man "can approach unto," than through the medium of those objects with which we are familiar, which are objects of our senses, and which, as the apostle assures us, "shew forth the invisible things of God; even his eternal power and godhead." The Lord, therefore, accommodated his instruction to his auditors, by speaking in the language of similitudes, or in parables; as it is written of him, that "with many such parables spake he the Word unto them, as they were able to hear it, and without a parable," it is added, "spake he not unto them." In the language of similitude or analogy, truth is lowered to the apprehensions of men without being degraded; its light is softened, but not extinguished; and while the divine attributes are thus familiarized to the mind, they yet retain their grandeur and dignity.

That the similitudes by which the Lord illustrated the doctrines and truths of heaven and the church, are selected with all the care which divine wisdom could bestow, must be evident to all who reflect on his (the Lord's) character. It is also obvious from the remarkable manner in which he frequently introduces them. His object on many occasions, appears to be to lead his hearers to this conclusion. "Whereunto," saith he on one occasion, "shall I liken this generation?" On another, "Unto what is the kingdom of God like? and whereunto shall I resemble it? It is like a

grain of mustard seed, &c. Again: "Whosoever heareth these words of mine and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, who built his house on a rock." "And every one who heareth these words of mine and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, who built his house on the sand." Of the Jews he asks the important question, "Why do ye not understand my speech?" "Even because ye cannot hear my word," was his reply. His speech which they could not understand, plainly refers to the style in which he addressed them; his word that they could not hear, was the truths conveyed in his speech, which they were unwilling to acknowledge. His disciples, who were receptive of those truths, were enabled to understand his speech, though not always at first. When he enjoined them, for instance, to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees, they at first supposed that it was a reproof because they had forgotten to take bread; but at length, "they understood how that he bade them not beware of the leaven of bread, but of the doctrine of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees." The beauty of this mode of conveying truths is very striking in some of our Lord's discourses. What can more affectingly describe the Lord's love to his people, and his care over their welfare, than his calling them his "sheep" and his "lambs," and himself, "the good shepherd?" Where can a more beautiful image of the conjunction of intelligence and innocence in the Christian state and character be afforded, than in the injunction, "Be ye wise as serpents, and harmless as doves;" or what words can convey a more striking idea of the stability of the true church, than the declaration, "Upon this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." When the Lord characterizes the crafty Herod as a "fox;"-" Go ye, tell that fox, behold, I do cures to-day, and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be perfected ;"—and the malicious Jews as "serpents," and "a generation of vipers;" we are at once presented with a view of their characters and dispositions, a view which all can read and appreciate. By a more extensive view of the subject, we may conclude that the Lord's actions are equally representative; that the miracles he wrought were similitudes, in which is embodied, as in an image, the nature of those effects which should result to the immaterial part of man through the renewing of his spirit and word; and that they are designed not only as evidences of his divinity, but also as images to show forth the nature of regeneration, and of those cures which by his spirit and word he performs on the soul.

From what has been advanced, it is obvious that analogy or

similitude, is the medium by which divine wisdom stoops to human thought and perception. Even the highest perfection of angelic intellect is incapable of perceiving truth as it exists in its source. What stretch of finite thought can embrace the boundless wisdom of God? How small a portion then can man, in his imperfect state here, and especially in his present degraded condition, receive? Were the divine wisdom revealed, in all its fulness, to the human mind, it would overwhelm it with its refulgence, and,' in all probability, destroy the intellectual faculty, as the eye would perish if brought in contact with the body of the sun. Divine wisdom is, therefore, like the sun of this system, placed at a distance from us, and, being conveyed through an accommodating medium, becomes the object of finite thought. Its rays, like those of the sun, extend to us with a power that can cheer and renovate without oppressing. This medium is that of similitude, or analogy, by which the Lord spake, and according to which the whole Word is written. That the prophets also spake in this style, is distinctly stated in Hosea. "I have," saith the Lord, speaking by him, "multiplied visions, and used similitudes, by the ministry of the prophets." The historical parts of the Word partake also of the same character. The history of the Israelitish people, which is indeed a collection of facts, is, notwithstanding, so arranged that it might represent throughout the things of heaven and the church. Of this we have the authority of the apostle, in his remarks upon Sarah and her bondwoman, Hagar, whose history he plainly affirms is an allegory. But another powerful argument in favour of this view of the Scriptures is, that unless they are so regarded, some portions of them appear trifling or unintelligible, whilst others admit of no satisfactory literal interpretation whatever. Of the latter kind is that part of the sacred history from which the text is taken.

The scriptural account of the creation, which militates against facts that the evidence of science has established, and the incongruity in the history of the fall of man, are an unquestionable evidence that the truth and beauty of that portion of the Word lie beyond the surface. The volumes which have been written in elucidation of the subject, have involved it in greater doubt and mystery. The sacred records, which attribute the fall of man to the guile of a serpent, cannot be regarded as giving a literal description of the facts. The common opinion, indeed, is, that it was a fallen angel who entered into and spake through the serpent; but that is a gratuitous assumption, for which Scripture affords no evidence. The history of this melancholy event is introduced by the simple state

ment in the text, "that the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made." But even admitting the assumption that it was Satan in the serpent, to be correct, it leaves the subject in equal darkness. Why should a curse be denounced against the serpent, when it was only the uncouscious instrument of satanic malignity and cunning? The curse itself, "Upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life," is equally incapable of solution. There is not a vestige of evidence, either in scriptural or natural history, to warrant the supposition that the serpent ever moved in any other mode, nor is the sequel of the denunciation, "and dust shalt thou eat," borne out by any fact which has come to our knowledge.

In the doctrines of the New Church that subject is divested of its difficulties. The terms in which that history is delivered are allegorical, and the serpent is a type of that principle in human nature by which the mind was seduced from its purity. It has been objected by some that such a system of interpretation is fanciful; but this objection must fall to the ground when it is seen, as we could easily prove, that the whole of the Word may be consistently explained by the same mode. To objectors of this class we may reply in the words of Moses to the children of Israel: "What are we that ye murmur against us? Your murmurings are not against us, but against the Lord." For, as we have already shewn, the mode by which we interpret the Scriptures is that to which the Lord in his discourses refers us, and by which he himself spake. Our Lord calls the Jews serpents, and Herod a fox; but were they such literally? or did he call them so in the language which some divines would call fanciful, that of analogy? To his disciples he promises the power of treading on serpents and scorpions. That this is not intended to be literally understood is plain from the context: "I beheld," he declares, "Satan as lightning fall from heaven. Behold, I give you power to tread on serpents, and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you." That what is here said of treading on serpents and scorpions is spoken in the language of analogy, is also evident from what follows: "Notwithstanding, in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you, but rather rejoice because your names are written in heaven." The mode in which our Lord addresses his hearers, and his references to the language of analogy, are doubtless intended to lead us to the true understanding of the Word. In the first prophecy of his coming it is predicted that he should bruise the serpent's head; and in the passage just quoted he

promises to impart the power of treading on serpents to his disciples. This reference seems, in particular, designed to lead to the right interpretation of the serpent, which holds so prominent a part in the history of man's fall. It was the serpent to whom the fall of man is ascribed. The Lord came to bruise his head; and that power he confers on his church. It must be obvious, then, from these passages, that by serpents are meant, in the language of Scripture, something within, some principle lurking in the heart, of which a serpent is the apt type or similitude. The Jews are called serpents, because the principles represented by serpents predominated in their character; and the promise to the disciples of power to tread on serpents implies the power of subduing those principles in themselves.

The character and habits of the serpent point it out as the representative of a principle appertaining to the lower degree of the mind. It is an animal which does not possess the power of raising itself from the earth. The cunning it possesses is also an apt emblem of that kind of intelligence which is proper to the worldly or unregenerate character, of which it is said, "The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." These circumstances point it out as the representative of that principle or degree in the mind which lies in immediate contact with the things of this world, and which is prone to cleave to earth rather than aspire to heaven; in other words, the sensual principle. When man was created in the image of his Maker, every principle of the mind was in due order and subordination. The things of heaven formed the head, and those of time and sense the feet; but when he began to listen to the suggestions of sense, or, in the language of Scripture, the serpent, rather than to the light of revelation which was in him, that order became inverted, the things of earth and the body were held in higher esteem than those of eternity, and the consequence was that he begun first to doubt, and afterwards deny the reality, and, losing sight of his dependence on the Lord, at length to regard his powers and faculties as selfderived, and himself as God. This gradual decline is strikingly described in the verses succeeding the text. The serpent or sensual principle is represented as first infusing doubts. "Yea," it asks, "hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" In the following verse it affirms, "Ye shall not surely die, for God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof that your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods knowing good and evil." Thus by listening to the suggestions of sense the early generations of man