He and Bacchus were rolling in the gutter together!
(Charles Spurgeon, "Flowers from a Puritan's Garden" 1883)
"In a fit of anger, we bid a naughty servant begone — but he lingers in the house, and before the next morning all is cool and quiet, and he is again in our favor. Just so, many a time an argument happens between a man and his lusts — but after a short time, he again hugs his darling lusts."
Ungodly men have their quarrels with their favorite sins on various accounts. But these are like children's disputes with one another — soon over, because they come from passion, and not from principle.
An unholy person will fall out with sin, because it has injured his health or his credit, or has brought him into difficulties with his neighbors. But when these temporary results are ended, he falls in love again with the same iniquity! Thus we have seen the drunkard loathing his excess in the morning, when his eyes were red, and his head was aching; but before the sun went down, the quarrel was ended, and he and Bacchus were rolling in the gutter together!
(N.B. Bacchus is the Roman god of wine and intoxication.)
Our enmity to sin should be based upon sound knowledge and solid reason, and be wrought in us by the Spirit of God — and then it will lead us to join in solemn league with the Lord, who has war with Amalek throughout all generations. We must have no peace with sin — nay, not with the least sin!
Of old, converted Israelites cast their idols to the moles and to the bats — away from their sight with the moles, away from the light with the bats. Just so, our detestation must lead us to put sin among the dead and the forgotten! So far from ever entering into amity with it, we must regard it as a dead and corrupted thing, forever abandoned to silence and the worm! As Heaven and Hell will never unite — so must it be plain that a saint and sin will never come together on any terms whatever.
Lord, I beseech You to keep me ever in desperate earnest in my war with sin. Forbid that I should trifle in this conflict, or grow cold in it. Let me be bound to never-ending warfare with my own sin — and never may I be pacified until Christ has utterly crushed the foul foe! Like your servant David, I would hate every false way!