Behold the first degree of death, which every sin which separates a soul from God introduces into it; but habitual sin, like inveterate death, goes farther. Thus, Lazarus not only is without life in the tomb, but, having been there for four days, the corruption of his body begins to spread infection: for, although the first sin, which causes the loss of grace, leaves us, in the eyes of God, without life and without motion, yet we may say, that certain impressions of the Holy Spirit, certain seeds of spiritual life, certain means of recovering the grace lost, still remain to us. Faith is not yet extinguished; the feelings of virtue not yet effaced; a sense of the truths of salvation not yet lost: it is a dead body in truth; but life being only just withdrawn, it still preserves, I know not what, of marks of warmth, which seem to spring from some remain of life. But, in proportion as the soul remains in death, and perseveres in guilt, grace withdraws; all extinguishes, all changes, all corrupts, and its corruption becomes universal.
I say universal; yes, my brethren, all changes, all corrupts, in the soul, through a continuance of disorder: the gifts of nature, gentleness, rectitude, humanity, modesty, even the mental talents; the blessings of grace, the feelings of religion, the remorses of conscience, the terrors of faith, and faith itself; the corruption penetrates all, and changes into putrefaction and a spectacle of horror both the gifts of heaven and the blessings of the earth: nothing remains in its original situation: the loveliest features are those which become the most hideous and the most undistinguishable; the charms of wit become the seasoning of debauchery and the passions; feelings of religion are changed into freethinking; superiority of knowledge into pride and a vain and shocking philosophy; nobility of mind is no longer but a boundless ambition; generosity and tenderness of heart but a yielding to the sway of impure and profane connexions; the principles of glory and honour handed down to us with the blood of our ancestors, but a vain ostentation, and the source of all our hatreds and animosities; our rank, our elevation, the cause of our envies and mean jealousies: lastly, our riches and our prosperity, the fatal instruments of all our crimes.
But the corruption is not confined to the sinner alone: a dead body cannot be long concealed without a smell of death being spread around: it is impossible to live long in debauchery without the smell of a bad life making itself felt. In vain is every precaution employed to conceal the ignominy of a disorderly life; in vain is the sepulchre, full of putrefaction and infection, externally whitened and embellished, the stench spreads; guilt, sooner or later, betrays itself; a black and infectious air always proceeds from that profane fire which, with so much care was concealed. A disorderly life betrays itself in a thousand ways; the public, at last undeceived, opens its eyes, and the more their character becomes blown, the more they discover themselves; they become accustomed to their shame; they become weary of constraint and decency; that guilt which is only to be purchased with attention and arrangements, appears too dear; they unmask themselves; they
