We have the knack of turning God's pure gifts into poison, and
practise a devilish chemistry by which we distil venom from the
flowers of Eden and the roses of the garden of God. I don't suppose
that to many men the respite which marks God's dealing with them
actually tends to doubts of His righteousness, or of His power, or of
His being. We have evidence enough of these; and the apparently
counter evidence, arising from the impunity of evil-doers, is fairly
enough laid aside by our moral instincts and consciousness, and by the
consideration that the mighty sweep of God's providence is too great
for us to decide on the whole circle by the small portion of the
circumference which we have seen. But what most men do is simply that
they permit impunity to deaden their sense of right and wrong, and go
on in their course without any serious thought of God's blessings, to
jostle Him out of their mind; they _'despise the riches of His
long-suffering goodness,'_ and never suffer it to _'lead them to
repentance.'_ To the unthinking minds of most of us, the long
continuance of impunity lulls us into a dream of its perpetuity. Man's
godless ingratitude is as deep a mystery as is God's loving patience.
It is strange that, with such constant failure of His love to win, God
should still persevere in it. For more than seventy times seven He
persists in forgiving the rebellious child who sins against Him, and
for more than seventy times seven the child persists in the abuse of
the Father's love, which still remains-an abuse of sin above all sins.