He finds out the bitter truth of St
Paul's words, that there is another law in his body warring against the
law of his mind, of his conscience, and his reason; so that when he would
do good, evil is present with him. The good that he would do he does not
do; and the evil that he would not do he does. Till he cries with St
Paul, "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of
this death?" and feels that none can deliver him, save Jesus Christ our
Lord.
Yes. But there is our comfort, there is our hope--Christ, the great
healer, the great physician, can deliver us, and will deliver us from the
remains of our old sins, the consequences of our own follies. Not,
indeed, at once, or by miracle; but by slow education in new and nobler
motives, in purer and more unselfish habits. And better for us, perhaps,
that He should not cure us at once, lest we should fancy that sin was a
light thing, which we could throw off whenever we chose; and not what it
is, an inward disease, corroding and corrupting, the wages whereof are
death.
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