never. Natural in the child, and
therefore pardonable, this spirit, when carried on into manhood, is
coarse--is worldliness. The most distinct illustration given us of
this, is the case of Esau. Esau came from the hunting-field worn and
hungry; the only means of procuring the tempting mess of his brother's
pottage was the sacrifice of his father's blessing, which in those
ages carried with it a substantial advantage; but that birthright
could be enjoyed only after _years_--the pottage was _present_, near,
and certain; therefore he sacrificed a future and higher blessing, for
a present and lower pleasure. For this reason Esau is the Bible type
of worldliness: he is called in Scripture a profane, that is, not a
distinctly vicious, but a secular or worldly person--an overgrown
child; impetuous, inconsistent, not without gleams of generosity and
kindliness, but ever accustomed to immediate gratification.

In this worldliness, moreover, is to be remarked the gamester's
desperate play. There is a gambling spirit in human nature. Esau
distinctly expresses this: "Behold I am at the point to die, and what
shall my birthright profit me?" He might never live to enjoy his
birthright; but the pottage was before him, present, certain, _there_.

Now, observe the utter powerlessness of mere preaching to cope with
this tyrannical power of the present. Forty thousand pulpits
throughout the land this day, will declaim against the vanity of
riches, the uncertainty of life, the sin of worldliness--against the
gambling spirit of human nature; I ask what _impression_ will be
produced by those forty thousand harangues? In every congregation it
is reducible to a certainty that, before a year has passed, some will
be numbered with the dead. Every man knows this, but he thinks the
chances are that it will not be himself; he feels it a solemn thing
for Humanity generally--but for himself there is more than a chance.
Upon this chance he plays away life.

It is so with the child: you tell him of the consequences of to-day's
idleness--but the sun is shining brightly, and he cannot sacrifice
to-day's pleasure, although he knows the disgrace it will bring
to-morrow. So it is with the intemperate man: he says--"Sufficient
unto the day is the evil, and the good thereof; let me have my portion
now." So that one great secret of the world's victory lies in the
mighty power of saying "_Now_."

2. The tyranny of the se