There is not only a revulsion of feeling from the evil thing done that
was so tempting before, but there is a dreadful change in the voice of
the temptress. Before her victim had done the sin, she whispered hints
of how little a thing it was. 'Don't make such a mountain of a
molehill. It is a very small matter. You can easily give it up when
you like.' But when the deed is done, then her mocking laugh rings
out, 'I have got you now and you cannot get away.' The prey is seduced
into the trap by a carefully prepared bait, and as soon as its
hesitating foot steps on to the slippery floor, down falls the door
and escape is impossible, We are tempted to sin by the delusion that
we are shaking off restraints that fetter our manhood, and that it is
spirited to do as we like, and as soon as we have sinned we discover
that we were pleasing not ourselves but a taskmaster, and that while
the voice said, 'Show yourself a man, beyond these petty,
old-fashioned maxims'; the meaning of it was, 'Become my slave.'
Sin grows in accordance with an awful necessity, so that it is never
in a sinner's power to promise himself 'It is only this one time that
I will do the wrong thing. Let me have one lapse and I will abjure the
evil for ever after.' We have to reckon with the tremendous power of
habit, and to bethink ourselves that a man may never commit a given
sin, but that if he has committed it once, it is all but impossible
that he will stop there. The incline is too slippery and the ice too
smooth to risk a foot on it. Habit dominates, outward circumstances
press, there springs up a need for repeating the draught, and for its
being more highly spiced. Sin begets sin as fast as the green flies
which infest rose-bushes. One has heard of slavers on the African
coast speaking negroes fair, and tempting them on board by wonderful
promises, but once the poor creatures are in the ship, then on with
the hatches and, if need be, the chains.