Jehoram went back to the olden times, and re-established the worship of the calf, after the pattern which Jeroboam, its founder, had patronized. His doing so, however, he found to be quite compatible with a secret allowance that the people should practice their own form of worship.
There is room in wickedness for the exercise of genius of a certain limited kind. The limitation is imposed by wickedness itself—for, after all, wickedness is made up of but few elements.
Many persons suppose that if they do not sin according to the prevailing fashion they are not sinning at all. They imagine that by varying the form of the evil they have mitigated the evil itself.
A good deal of virtue is supposed to consist in reprobating certain forms of vice. A man may be no drunkard, according to the usual acceptation of the term, and yet he may be in a continual state of intoxication. It is possible to shudder at what is usually known as persecution, and yet all the while to be beheading enemies and burning martyrs.
Jehoram made a kind of trick of wickedness. He knew how to give a twist to old forms, or a turn to old ways, so as to escape part of their vulgarity and yet to retain all their iniquity.
A most alarming thought it is to the really spiritual mind that men may become adepts in wickedness—experts in evil doing—and may be able so to manage their corrupt designs as to deceive many observers by a mere change of surface or appearance.
We do not amend the idolatry by altering the shape of the altar. We do not destroy the mischievous power of unbelief by throwing our skepticism into metaphysical phrases, and thus making verbal mysteries where we might have spiritual illumination. We are deceived by things simply because we ourselves live a superficial life and read only the history of appearances.
What is the cure for all this manipulation of evil, this changing of complexion and of form, and this consequent imagining that the age is improving because certain phenomena which used to be so patent are no longer discernible on the face of things?
We come back to the sublime doctrine of regeneration, as the answer to the great inquiry: “What is the cure for this heart disease?”
“Marvel not that I said unto thee: ‘Ye must be born again.’”