A Dead Soul

In vain the wrath of God against sin is set forth—the perceptions of his soul are stopped up; like tho sleeping traveller, he does not see the coming storm. In vain the bread and water of life are offered to him—his soul is neither hungry for the one nor thirsty for the other. In vain he is advised to flee to the Great Physician—his soul is unconscious of its disease — why should he go? In vain you put a price into his hand to buy wisdom — the mind of his soul wanders—he is like the lunatic who calls straws a crown, and dust diamonds — he says, "I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing." Ah, there is nothing so sad as the utter corruption of our nature; there is nothing so painful as the anatomy of a dead soul.—Ryle