rd health of soul. It
is protection against the worst ravages of sin which is the moral aim of
the majority of the world; not a striving toward a positive standard of
healthy life for both soul and body. What is sin but disease of the
soul? Sin is just as truly, just as practically, disease of the soul, as
any form of known malady is disease of the body. If we could impress
ourselves strongly with the fact that sin is disease,--disorder and
abnormality,--it would be a radical step toward freedom from sin. By sin
is meant every kind of selfishness,--whatever form it may take.

A young friend, in speaking of a companion charming in his words and
manners and most attractive because of his artistic temperament, but
evidently loose in his ideas of morality, once expressed the opinion
that it was "all right" to associate with this charming man,--enjoying
all that was delightful in him and ignoring, so far as possible, all
that was evidently bad.

"Could you ignore dirty nails, dirty ears, and a bad smell about your
companion?" someone asked.

Whereupon the young man exclaimed, with an expression of supreme
disgust, "How can you speak of such things,--of course I could not stay
with him for five minutes!"

But he did not in the least associate the loose, light, unclean way of
looking at human relations, with the same careless uncleanness as
applied to the body. And yet, in reality, the one kind of uncleanness
corresponds precisely to the other. In the one case the dirt is on the
inside and is what we may call living dirt, because it is kept alive by
the soul to which it is allowed to cling. In the other case the dirt is
on the outside, and can be washed off with soap and water. Very few
so-called men or women of the world are willing to appear dirty and
slovenly in their bodies,--but a great many are willing to be dirty and
slovenly in their souls. A curious and significant fact it is, that
often, when a man's nerves give way, even when his external habits have
been most cleanly, or even fastidious, they may change entirely, and he
may go about with spotted clothes, dirty hands, and a general slovenly
appearance, whereas such external shiftlessness would have been
impossible to him while his nerves were comparatively well and strong.

When such a man's nerves give way, so that he loses to some extent the
external use of his will, the dirty habits of his mind appear in
slovenly and dirty habits of body, because he has no l