The first signs of a withering church may be said to have manifested themselves when the living members extend the dead hand of sympathy to the suffering members of their own flock.
With the seeds of life are the seeds of death, and at the birth of any child the mortal conflict begins, never to result in a “drawn game.”
Big Christians, like big plants, require more water than small ones; and so in like manner Christians who have many cares, troubles, business and state responsibility require more grace than little Christians, and those who have it not will soon become bankrupt.
The “will” and “principle” are man’s own twin-sisters, the offspring of life, and run side by side through the marrow of man’s nature; and who derive their vitality, life, and power from the unseen spiritual influences by which they are surrounded for good or for evil; and every action that tends to cripple either the one or deform the other is soon manifested in the crooked actions of a man’s life, shaping immortality.
Crooked Christians, like crooked trees, are neither so profitable nor beautiful to behold as those who grow straight and stately.
Under the guise of an angel of light, Satan dangles false hope before some Christians, as a basket made of finely-wrought and tender twigs, a bouquet of delicate, beautiful, lovely, and richly scented greenhouse plants, as a foretaste of what is before, or in reserve for those who follow his advice—i.e., the influence of the ball-room, theatre, gay living, high life, fashion, and fancy, &c.; and so dexterously does the arch enemy hold these things before the simple ones, or entwine them round their hearts, that they are ready to cry out, “hell” is heaven and “heaven” is hell; and in this way the simple are groping after shadows till they find themselves surrounded by a darkness blacker than midnight, and without a friend in the world, with the devil laughing in their face for having been such fools.
The best antidote against beer and hellish swears is cold water and upward prayers.
To a troubled conscience, at midnight hour the ticking of a clock sounds as loud as the death knell of the church bell.
Every act of good or ill we perform makes an indent upon the coil of future life, which will speak and re-speak to us through the never-ending ages of eternity as they roll along.
Every time a Christian looks at sin with a longing eye, the devil draws a thin beautiful tinted film before his eyes, through which film, in process of time, the fire in his conscience eye, kindled at the time of his conversion, is unable to penetrate, or see the dangers lying across his path.