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Beware of light thoughts of sin.
At the time of conversion, the conscience is so tender, that we
are afraid of the slightest sin. Young converts have a holy
timidity, a godly fear lest they should offend against God.
It is such a pity that very soon the fine bloom upon these first
ripe fruits is removed by the rough handling of the surrounding
world: the sensitive plant of young piety turns into a willow in
after life, too flexible, too easily yielding.
It is sadly true, that even a Christian may grow by degrees so
heartless, that the sin which once startled him does not alarm
him in the least anymore. Step by step men get more familiar
with sin.
The ear in which the cannon has been booming will not notice
slight sounds. At first a little sin startles us; but soon we
say, "Is this not just a little sin?" Then there comes
another, larger, and then another, until by degrees we begin to
regard sin as but a little ill; and then follows an unholy
presumption:
We have not fallen into open sin. True, we tripped a little, but
we stood upright in the main. We may have uttered one unholy
word, but as for the most of our conversation, it has been
consistent.
So we tolerate sin; we throw a cloak over it; we call it by
dainty names. But Christians, beware of how thou think of sin.
Take heed or you may fall little by little.
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Sin, a little thing?
Is it not like a poison?
Who knows its deadliness?
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Sin, a little thing?
Do not the little foxes spoil the grapes?
Does not the tiny coral build a rock which wrecks a navy?
Do not little strokes fell lofty oaks?
Will not continual droppings wear away stones?
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Sin, a little thing?
It girded the Redeemer's head with thorns, and pierced his
heart!
It made him suffer anguish, bitterness, and woe.
Could you weigh the least sin in the scales of eternity, you
would fly from it as from a serpent, and abhor the least
appearance of evil.
Look upon all sin as that which crucified the Savior, and you
will see it to be "exceeding sinful."
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