Портрет художника в юности

           ButtherewasoneconditionimposedonthembyGod:obediencetoHisword.Theywerenottoeatofthefruitoftheforbiddentree.

           —Alas,mydearlittleboys,theytoofell.Thedevil,onceashiningangel,asonofthemorning,nowafoulfiendcameintheshapeofaserpent,thesubtlestofallthebeastsofthefield.Heenviedthem.He,thefallengreatone,couldnotbeartothinkthatman,abeingofclay,shouldpossesstheinheritancewhichhebyhissinhadforfeitedforever.Hecametothewoman,theweakervessel,andpouredthepoisonofhiseloquenceintoherear,promisingher—O,theblasphemyofthatpromise!—thatifsheandAdamateoftheforbiddenfruittheywouldbecomeasgods,nayasGodHimself.Eveyieldedtothewilesofthearchtempter.SheatetheappleandgaveitalsotoAdamwhohadnotthemoralcouragetoresisther.ThepoisontongueofSatanhaddoneitswork.Theyfell.

           —AndthenthevoiceofGodwasheardinthatgarden,callingHiscreaturemantoaccount:andMichael,princeoftheheavenlyhost,withaswordofflameinhishand,appearedbeforetheguiltypairanddrovethemforthfromEdenintotheworld,theworldofsicknessandstriving,ofcrueltyanddisappointment,oflabourandhardship,toearntheirbreadinthesweatoftheirbrow.