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 Dives receives, for which he must be “tormented;” and this is another of the “evil things” which Lazarus receives, for which he must be “comforted.”  It cannot be denied, that in this world the child of God suffers more mental sorrow for sin, in a given period of time, than does the insensible man of the world.  If we could look into the soul of a faithful disciple of Christ, we should discover that not a day passes, in which his conscience does not reproach him for sins of thought, word, or deed; in which he does not struggle with some bosom sin, until he is so weary that he cries out:  “Oh that I had wings like a dove, so that I might fly away, and be at rest.”  Some of the most exemplary