Not a callous conscience
Neither does the joy of a Christian arise, third, from any dullness or callousness of conscience. A kind of joy, it is true, may arise from this, in those whose foolish hearts are darkened, whose heart is callous, unfeeling, dull of sense, and therefore without spiritual understanding. Because of their senseless, unfeeling hearts, they may rejoice even in committing sin. And this they may probably call liberty. It is in fact mere drunkenness of soul, a fatal numbness of spirit, the stupid insensibility of a seared conscience.
On the contrary, a Christian has the most exquisite sensibility, such as he could not have conceived before. He never had such a tenderness of conscience as he has had since the love of God has reigned in his heart. And this also is his glory and his joy, that God has heard his daily prayer.
O that my tender soul might fly the first abhorred approach of evil, quick as the apple of an eye, to feel the slightest touch of sin.
1771 text
19. Neither does the joy of a Christian arise, thirdly, from any dulness or callousness of conscience. A kind of joy, it is true, may arise from this, in those whose foolish hearts are darkened; whose heart is callous, unfeeling, dull of sense; and consequently, without spiritual understanding. Because of their senseless, unfeeling hearts, they may rejoice even in committing sin: And this they may probably call liberty! which is indeed mere drunkenness of soul: a fatal numbness of spirit, the stupid insensibility of a seared conscience. On the contrary, a Christian has the most exquisite sensibility; such as he could not have conceived before. He never had such a tenderness of conscience as he has had, since the love of God has reigned in his heart. And this also is his glory and joy; that God hath heard his daily prayer.
“O that my tender soul might fly The first, abhorr’d approach of ill: Quick, as the apple of an eye The slightest touch of sin to feel.”