Then entered Satan into Judas
Progressive wickedness
Men do not become great villains at once.
Souls are not like meteoric bodies, that are blazing amongst the stars at one moment, and the next in some dark pit on earth, wrapped in a noxious and sulphurous smoke. They are rather like trees, they fall by degrees. See that great monarch of the forest! For years disease has been in its roots, and a long succession of foul insects have been gnawing at its vitals. Slowly and silently the decline goes on. At first the outward symptoms are scarcely visible. A few withered leaves on one of its branches on a certain spring are first noticed by the old woodman. The next spring, and not only withered leaves are seen, but perhaps a leafless branch or: two. Thus through many a long year the deterioration proceeds, until at last it is rotten to the core, and only awaits some slight breeze blowing in the right direction to strike it down. One morning a gentle gust of air sweeps through the wood, the tree falls with a crash that shakes its neighbours, vibrates through the forest, and appals the district with its boom.