utions of eternity; with what
a delirium of pleasure would he plunge into the sin that he loves. Tell
the avaricious man, that his avarice shall never have any evil
consequences here or hereafter; and with what an energy would he apply
himself to the acquisition of wealth. Tell the luxurious man, full of
passion and full of blood, that his pleasures shall never bring down any
evil upon him, that there is no power in the universe that can hurt him,
and with what an abandonment would he surrender himself to his carnal
elysium. Tell the ambitious man, fired with visions of fame and glory,
that he may banish all fears of a final account, that he may make himself
his own deity, and breathe in the incense of worshipers, without any
rebuke from Him who says: "I am God, and my glory I will not give to
another,"-assure the proud and ambitious man that his sin will never find
him out, and with what a momentum will he follow out his inclination.
For, in each of these instances there is a _hankering_ and a _lust_. The
sin is _loved and revelled in_, for its own deliciousness. The heart is
worldly, and therefore finds its pleasure in its forbidden objects and
aims. The instant you propose to check or thwart this inclination; the
instant you try to detach this natural heart from its wealth, or its
pleasure, or its earthly fame; you discover how closely it clings, and
how strongly it loves, and how intensely it enjoys the forbidden object.
Like the greedy insect in our gardens, it has fed until every fibre and
tissue is colored with its food; and to remove it from the leaf is to
tear and lacerate it.

Now it is for this reason, that the natural man receives "good things,"
or experiences pleasure, in this life, at a point where the spiritual man
receives "evil things," or experiences pain. The child of God does not
relish and enjoy sin in this style. Sin in the good man is a burden; but
in the bad man it is a pleasure. It is all the pleasure he has. And when
you propose to take it away from him, or when you ask him to give it up
of his own accord, he looks at you and asks: "Will you take away the only
solace I have? I have no joy in God. I take no enjoyment in divine
things. Do you ask me to make myself wholly miserable?"

And not only does the natural man enjoy sin, but, in this life, he is
much less troubled than is the spiritual man with reflections and
self-reproaches on account of sin. This is another of the "good things"
which D