A COVETOUS, grasping Christian is like a quicksand: the surface smooth, the depth unceasingly on the suck and gulp.
Everything goes down, nothing comes up again: yet is the quicksand apparently none the fuller, neither does it cease from engulfing.
In fact--whether or not one may attribute ideas to a quicksand--it seems at any rate to entertain no idea of ever becoming satisfied. Its aim appears to be not to attain repletion, but to exercise an unbounded swallow.
In this world, crews, cargoes, ships, waifs and strays, respond to the "Give, give" of the quicksand; while objects of proportionate bulk and quality often respond to the unuttered "Give, give" of the covetous man.
Thus in this present world, both; but how in the next world, either?