f　mine　and　find　all　Earth’s　desire。　Drink！　Drink　of　the　Mysteries　from　the　cup　of　this　rich　heart　of　mine　and　learn　what　Life　can　be。　Sleep！　Sleep　and　dream　of　naught　but　me　on　this　kind　breast　of　mine　which　shall　breathe　for　you　alone　until　the　Night　forgets　her　stars。’”

“Touch　not；　taste　not；　handle　not；”　answers　the　cold　stern　Law。　“Pass　on；　she　is　not　thine。”

Often　enough　it　is　Nature　that　prevails　and；　having　eaten　of　the　apple　that　She；　our　Mother；　gives　us；　we　desire　no　other　fruit。　But　always　the　end　is　the　same：　its　sweetness　turns　to　gravel　in　our　mouth。　Shame　es；　sorrow　es；　e　death　and　separations。　And；　greater　than　all　of　these；　remorse　rises　in　the　after　years　and　stands　over　us　at　night；　since；　when　our　eyes　are　no　longer　clouded　with　the　mists　of　passion；　we　see　and　bewail　our　wickedness。

For　sin　has　this　quality。　Like　some　bare；　black　peak　in　a　plain　of　flowers　it　dominates　all　our　landscape。　However　far　we　wander　never　can　we　escape　the　sight　of　it。　Our　virtues；　such　as　they　may　be；　are　dwarfed　and　lost　in　the　dark　shadows　thrown　up　by　our　towering　crime。　True　and　honest　love　of　wife　and　child；　unceasing　thought　for　others；　vicarious　sufferings　on　behalf　of　others；　often　sharp　enough　to　sadden；　whatever　kind　deeds　and　charities　may　lie　within　our　power；　the　utter　and　heartfelt　forgiveness　of　all　who　have　wronged　us；　the　struggles　that　we　made　as　the　snare　closed　round　us；　the　memories　of　those　keen　temptations　from　which　we　have　escap