Sensual treasures are laid up "where moth and rust doth corrupt." Mortality is their doom. Sin breaks in upon them, and carries off their fleeting joys. The sensualist's affections are as imaginary, whimsical, and unreal as his pleasures. Falsehood, envy, hypocrisy, malice, hate, revenge, and so forth, steal away the treasures of Truth. Stripped of its coverings, what a mocking spectacle is sin!

topic 107 - ending page 241