Part 86

Now, although the Christian's renewed mind may be thoroughly convinced of the fallacy of all this reasoning--although he may see that this worldly wisdom is but a flimsy, threadbare cloak, thrown over the heart's covetous practices--yet who can tell how far the heart may be influenced by such things? We get weary of constant resistance. The current becomes too strong for us, and we gradually yield ourselves to its action, and are carried along on its surface. Conscience may have some death-struggles; but the spiritual energies are paralyzed, and the sensibilities of the new nature are blunted, so that there is no response to the cries of conscience, and no effectual effort to withstand the enemy; the worldliness of the Christian's heart leagues itself with the opposing influences from without--the outworks are stormed, and the citadel of the soul's affections vigorously assaulted; and finally, the man settles down in thorough worldliness, exemplifying in his own person the prophet's touching lament, "Her Nazarites _were_ purer than snow, they _were_ whiter than milk, they _were_ more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing _was_ of sapphire: their visage is blacker than a coal; they _are_ not known in the streets; their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick." (Lam. iv. 7, 8.) The man who was once known as a servant of Christ--a fellow-helper unto the kingdom of God--making use of his resources only to further the interests of the gospel of Christ, is now, alas! settled down upon his lees, only known as a plodding, keen, bargain-making man of business, of whom the apostle might well say, "Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present age [τον νυν αιωνα]."