An Ounce Of Mirth Is Worth A

When The Son Of God Comes To Rescue Us And Bring Us Back To God, He Does Not Find In Us The Ability To Believe.

A Foolish Physician He Is, And A Most Unfaithful Friend, That Will Let A Sick Man Die For Fear Of Troubling Him; And Cruel Wretches Are We To Our Friends, That Will Rather Suffer Them To Go Quietly To Hell, Then We Will Anger Them, Or Hazard Our Reputation With Them.

A Man Pleaser Cannot Be True To God, Because He Is A Servant To The Enemies Of His Service; The Wind Of A Man's Mouth Will Drive Him About As The Chaff, From Any Duty, And To Any Sin.

You Little Know What You Have Done, When You Have First Broke The Bounds Of Modesty; You Have Set Open The Door Of Your Fancy To The Devil, So That He Can, Almost At His Pleasure Ever After, Represent The Same Sinful Pleasure To You Anew; He Hath Now Access To Your Fancy To Stir Up Lustful Thoughts And Desires, So That When You Should Think Of Your Calling, Of Your God, Or Of Your Soul, Your Thoughts Will Be Worse Than Swinish, Upon The Filth That Is Not Fit To Be Named. If The Devil Here Get In A Foot, He Will Not Easily Be Got Out.

Special Mercy Arouses More Gratitude Than Universal Mercy.