Some have eaten the forbidden fruit so long that remorse troubles them no longer with pain; they are so paralyzed they know no more the sweet delights of life which virtuous lips alone can taste. In these times, the true idea of religion comes back to men, the infinitely perfect God, man so noble in nature, conscience so true, will so strong, human destination so fair and wonderful—and deep religious emotions spring up again, reverence for God and his unchanging law of right. Then we say to the tempter, "Get thee behind me!—who am I to debase my nature and sully my soul? "Many a noble youth has thus tottered on the sharp and perilous edge of ruin till true religion flashed her early light upon his road, and he turned and crept back safely. Many a noble man has been worse tempted, and by the same guide has been led through a wilderness hotter than the Arabian.
The stain of vice is on us; we have yielded to the temptation ; we have broken with conscience, and marred the integrity of our own soul. Then, too, the true religion comes to us with marvellous healing power. There is hope: for the God all-mighty, and all-righteous, is all-loving too; and He has provided me ways of return. In the sickliest frame there is always a recuperative struggle, an effort to expel the disease and return to the normal type. But the body is mortal, meant to last only a few score years : so its power of recovery has limits never far off; a fever soon burns down this six-foot tenement; a drowning child pulls a strong man after it into the fataip stream—the dead baby -hand strangling a vehement and full-grown life; a short fall breaks our precious urn—'twas only earthenware—and men gather up the fragments to bury them out of their sight, while its precious balm ascends to heaven, filling the neighbourhood with its sweetness. But there is no spiritual death—only partial numbness, never a stop to that higher life. The soul's power of recovery from wickedness is infinite: its time of healing is time without bounds. There is no limit to the vis medicatrix of the inner, the immortal man. To the body death is a finality; but the worst complication of personal wickedness is only one incident in the development of a man whose life is continuous, an infinite series of incidents all planned and watched over by absolute
