The fear of God in Christian preaching is a reverent awe that fosters obedience and trust, contrasting with worldly fears that paralyze. It is portrayed as a healthy, protective fear that leads to courage and freedom from the fear of man (Proverbs 9:10, Isaiah 8:13). Illustrations often use images of respect, deliverance, and transformation to highlight its power.
Fear and negative thinking hinder embracing God's best and future hope.
Not everyone is ready to accept the fact that the best is yet to be. This is true for a number of reasons.
Some are content to live in the past. They delight in the "good old days."
Many are content to live mediocre lives. They are content to drift from day to day.
Insecurity hinders many persons from believing that the best is yet to be. They want to hold on to their position or things. They will never know the excitement of launching out by faith, or waiting for the great things of tomorrow.
Negative thinking guides the decisions and attitudes of many people. They choose to accept the premise that the worst is yet to come. They will get what they wish for if they are not careful.
Scores have no goals for their lives. They don't know where they are going today, much less tomorrow.
A few think they don't have any needs. They are pleased with the way things are in their lives (cf. Revelation 3:17). There is always room for improvement in everyone's life.
Fear is always a major enemy to progress. It also hinders a person from becoming excited about the future (cf. 2 Timothy 1:7).
True courage includes fearing sin enough to avoid situations of known weakness.
A young soldier of evident breeding and culture had one peculiarity. He would never drink alcoholic beverages with the others. One day the major asked him to take a message to the express agent in town. "Where shall I find him, sir?" he asked. "Just go into Casey's saloon and sit down. He'll show up in the course of the afternoon." The soldier drew back and said, "Beg pardon, sir, but can't I meet him some place else?" "Why, what's the matter with Casey's? Are you afraid to go there?" "Yes, sir, because drink was what made me enlist and leave my family in the first place. I was drunk and didn't know what I was doing." "You may go," said the major curtly. "I'll find a more accommodating and less cowardly man."
From then on this soldier carried a reputation for cowardice because he was realistic enough to avoid danger he knew he was too weak to face. However, the opinion of the battery changed one day when he was one of the seven chosen to fire a cannon salute to a visiting general. One bag of powder failed to discharge, and the sergeant ordered it pulled out. As it fell to the ground, the men were horrified to see that one corner of it ignited. For a breathless moment no one moved. Then this soldier flung himself upon it and with his bare hands smothered the deadly spark. From then on he was the hero of the company. You may depend upon it; the man who is afraid of doing wrong will be brave enough when the occasion calls for it.
Fear of God empowers faithful preaching despite fear of human opposition.
Bishop Latimer once preached a sermon before King Henry VIII that greatly offended his royal auditor by its plainness. The King ordered him to preach again the next Sunday and to make public apology for his offense. The Bishop ascended the pulpit and read his text, and thus began his sermon: "Hugh Latimer, dost thou know before whom thou art this day to speak? To the high and mighty Monarch, the King's most excellent Majesty, who can take away thy life if thou offendest. Therefore take heed that thou speakest not a word that may displease. But then, consider well, Hugh! Dost thou not know from whom thou comest-upon whose message thou art sent? Even by the great and mighty God, who is all-present and beholdeth all thy ways, and who is able to cast thy soul into hell! Therefore take care that thou deliverest thy message faithfully." And so beginning, he preached over again, but with increased energy, the self-same sermon he had preached the week before. The fear of God delivered him from the fear of man.
Remembering Christ’s presence empowers us to control sinful temper and behavior.
La Fontaine, chaplain of a Prussian regiment, preached a plain sermon on the sin of a hasty temper. The next day the major, a very passionate man, told him he had used his official liberty rather too freely. La Fontaine admitted that he had thought of him, but had no intention of being personal. "Well, it is of no use," said the major. "I have a hasty temper, I cannot help it, and I cannot control it. It is impossible." The next Sunday La Fontaine preached upon self-deception, and the excuses which men are apt to make, "Why," said he, "a man will declare that it is impossible for him to control his temper, when he very well knows that, were the same provocation to happen in the presence of his sovereign, he not only could, but would, control himself. And yet he dares to say that the continual presence of the King of Kings imposes upon him neither restraint nor fear!" The next day the major again accosted him. "You were right yesterday, chaplain," he said humbly. "Hereafter, when you see me in danger of falling, remind me of the King." Let us always remember we are in the presence of Christ. Surely we would not wish to let our passions loose in the presence of the King. The Invitation
There is a story of a young minister who was going home late one evening from church. He entered a crowded streetcar with his Bible under his arm and at once became the target for sneering remarks from some rough fellows. These remarks kept up, and as the young minister was leaving the car, to the amusement of his companions one youth said, "Say, Mister, how far is it to heaven?" What would be the actions of a consecrated Christian under such circumstances? Is it permissible to lose one's temper and blow one's top? Of course, one way to answer is to keep silent, but then one feels he is failing the Master. This young minister, with a quiet dignity and with all gentleness, replied, "It is only a step away; will you take it now?" Not a Coward
A young soldier who was showing signs of panic on the eve of his first battle was chaffed by a veteran. "Why, sonny," he said, "you're shaking with fear. Don't be such a coward." "I'm not a coward," hotly retorted the youth. "If you felt half as scared as I do, you'd run away!" He was right. That young man was not a coward because he felt fear, but he would have been a coward if he had allowed it to master him and drive him from his post of duty.
An infidel hides his unbelief from his daughter, revealing inner doubt and fear.
Not long ago I went into a man's house, and when I commenced to talk about religion he turned to his daughter and said: "You had better go out of the room; I want to say a few words to Mr. Moody." When she had gone, he opened a perfect torrent of infidelity upon me. "Why," said I, "did you send your daughter out of the room before you said this?" "Well," he replied, "did not think it would do her any good to hear what I said." My friends, his "rock is not as our rock". Why did he send his daughter out of the room if he believed what he said? When these infidels are in trouble why do not they get some of their infidel friends to administer consolation? When they make a will why do they call in some follower of the Lord Jesus Christ to carry it out? Why, it is because they cannot trust their infidel friends.
Fear of the Bible's truth causes anguish over eternal loss and judgment.
An infidel said, "There is one thing that mars all the pleasures of my life." — "Indeed!" replied his friend, "what is that?" He answered, "I am afraid the Bible is true. If I could know for certain that death is an eternal sleep, I should be happy: my joy would be complete! But here is the thorn that stings me. This is the sword that pierces my very soul, — if the Bible is true, I am lost forever."
Some Christians fear God more than the devil, hesitating to fully embrace faith.
As an owl peeps at the sun out of a barn, but dares not come near it, so, likewise, some Christians peep at religion, and will not come to it, but stand aloof, pinking and winking, as though they were more afraid of God than the Devil.
— Cawdray
Covetousness breeds continual fear, suspicion, and distrust of others.
That which is their greatest corrosive, they are in continual suspicion, fear, and distrust. He thinks his own wife and children are so many thieves, and go about to cozen him; his servants are all false. Timidus Plutus, an old proverb, "as fearful as Plutus:" so doth Aristophanes and Lucian bring him in fearful, still, pale, anxious, suspicious, and trusting no man. "They are afraid of tempests, for their corn; they are afraid of their friends, lest they should ask something of them, beg, or borrow; they are afraid of their enemies, lest they hurt them; thieves, lest they rob them; they are afraid of war, and afraid of peace; afraid of rich, and afraid of poor; afraid of all." Last of all, they are afraid of want, that they shall die beggars; which makes them lay up still, and dare not use that they have. What if a dear year come, or dearth, or some loss? And, were it not that they are loath to lay out money on a rope, they would be hanged forthwith, and sometimes die to save charges; and make away with themselves if their corn and cattle miscarry, though they have abundance left, as Agellius notes. Valerius makes mention of one, that, in a famine, sold a mouse for two hundred pence, and famished himself. Such are their cares, griefs, and perpetual fears! These symptoms are elegantly expressed by Theophrastus in his character of a covetous man: "Lying in bed, he asked his wife whether she shut the trunks and chests fast, the cap-case be sealed, and whether the hall-door be bolted; and, though she say all is well, he riseth out of his bed in his shirt, barefoot and barelegged, to see whether it be so; with a dark lantern searching every corner, scarce sleeping a wink all night." R. Burton.
Fear can lead to superstition and false expectations about God's judgment.
In 1789, the idea of the destruction of the world by fire became very prevalent in Norfolk, Va. One evening, an unusually brilliant aurora borealis was mistaken for the beginning of the expected conflagration. The most of the population of the place were on their knees in the streets, crying out in great trepidation. An intelligent stranger pointed out to them that it was only a common spectacle in more northern latitudes. They begged him to desist, and not draw down the wrath of Heaven upon them.
The greatest danger is God's judgment, which no earthly protection can prevent.
When a city is compact round about with a wall that is impregnable, it will yet be open still towards heaven, and therefore cannot be out of danger, if God be an enemy. For all their walls and bars, God could rain fire and brimstone upon the Sodomites out of heaven. Alexander asked the Scythians what they were most afraid of; thinking they would have said of himself, who was so victorious everywhere. But they answered, scoffingly, they were most afraid lest heaven should fall upon them. We, indeed, need not fear any thing but this only, lest the heaven should fall upon us, lest God should be our enemy. J. Stoughton.
Darkness naturally causes fear, especially among the unenlightened and superstitious.
There is, no doubt, a natural connection between darkness and the fear with which it so commonly affects mankind, especially the unenlightened and less civilized part of the human race. This, probably, is greatly aided both by ignorance and superstition; but it is found very common and almost unconquerable. "Having bathed, and dined on bread and cheese, we set out on our return to the bark; our guides urging us to be quick, lest we should be benighted. They said the serpents and other venomous reptiles always came down by night to drink, and they were apprehensive that we should tread on them: they also said that we should meet the robbers at night. These people have a remarkable aversion to being caught in the dark. I remember when at Dendera, our servant, an Arab, hurried off and left us behind, when he thought we should be late in returning to our boat. And, whenever our lights have gone out in a tomb or temple, the Arabs have always clapped their hands, and made a noise to keep their spirits up, till the light returned."
Irby and Mangles.
Absence of darkness brings safety and removes fear, illustrating spiritual security.
Sailing once along a coast where a friend had suffered shipwreck, the scene which recalled his danger filled us with no fear; because, while his ship, on the night she ran ashore, was cutting her way through the densest fog, we were ploughing the waters of a silver sea, where noble headlands, and pillared cliffs, and scattered islands, and surf-beaten reefs, stood bathed in the brightest moonshine. There was no danger, just because there was no darkness.
— Dr. Guthrie
Charles IX dies in terror, realizing his guilt and fearing eternal loss.
Bartholomew's Day, expired, bathed in his own blood, whilst he said, "What blood! what murders! I know not where I am. How will all this end? What shall I do? I am lost forever. I know it."
God's protection removes fear of enemies, just as a queen's promise removes fear of a foe.
Like as if one had a great enemy, and the queen, who is but a mortal woman, should promise to protect and defend him, he would not fear; much more we ought not to fear our enemies, seeing that God, who only is almighty, doth say, "Fear not; for I am thy Protector and thy Defence!"
— Cawdray
A holy fear of falling keeps believers humble and vigilant against sin.
There was a holy man, that rarely heard of other men's crimson sins, but he usually bedewed the place with his tears, considering that the seeds of those very sins were in his own nature. In thy nature thou hast that which would lead thee, with the Pharisees, to oppose Christ; and, with Judas, to betray Christ; and, with Pilate, to condemn Christ; and, with the soldiers, to crucify Christ. Oh, what a monster wouldst thou prove, should God but leave thee to act suitably to that sinful and woful nature of thine! "I have known a good old man," says Bernard, "who, when he heard of any one that had committed some notorious offence, was wont to say within himself, 'He fell today; so may I to-morrow.' Now, the reason why humble souls keep up in themselves a holy fear of falling is because that is the very best way to preserve them in their upward path. "Happy is the man that feareth always; but he that hardeneth his heart shall fall into mischief." Brooks.
Fear of injury makes people cautious, illustrating the risk and consequences of falling.
No man would willingly hazard himself upon a fall that may break his leg, or some other bone, though he could be most sure that he should not break his neck, or that his life were not at all in danger, and that he should be perfectly cured yet the pain and trouble of such a hurt would terrify him, and make him very, fearful when he walks in danger. The "broken bones" that David complains of after his fall may work fear and wariness in those that hear him, though they were certain of a like recovery.
— Leighton
Belief that God sees all deters people from dishonesty and secures property.
An African traveller says, that, when among one of the most degraded and savage tribes he met with, his attention was attracted by the idol of the tribe stuck upon a high pole, as if intended to convey the idea that he could see all around the country, and every one of the people. And such is their superstitious faith, that they believe that every act of dishonesty would be seen by their god, if they were guilty of such an act, and that they would be punished accordingly. The effect of this faith is, that no dishonest act is perpetrated within sight of this idol, and the most valuable property is perfectly secure.
Fear motivates duty more than gratitude or love for God.
Fear guides more to their duty than gratitude. For one man who is virtuous from the love of virtue, from the obligation which he thinks he lies under to the Giver of all, there are ten thousand who are good only from their apprehension of punishment. Goldsmith
Confidence in God's love removes fear even in life's storms.
A military office being in a dreadful storm, his lady, who was sitting in the cabin near him, and filled with alarm for the safety of the vessel, was so surprised at his composure, that she cried out "Mr dear, are you not afraid? How is it pos ible you can be so calm in such a storm?" He arose from a chair lashed to the deck, and drew his sword. Pointing it to his wife's breast, he said, "Are you not afraid?" She instantly replied, "No,—certainly not."—"Why?" said the officer. "Because," rejoined his lady, "I know the sword is in the hand of my husband; and he loves me too well to hurt me."—"Then," said he, "remember, I know in whom I have believed, and that He holds the winds in his fist, and the waters in the hollow of his hand."
Natural fear is a God-given protection to avoid dangers beyond our strength.
Fear, in itself, is a thing not sinful; for is not fear a thing natural, and for men's preservation necessary, implanted in us by the provident and most gracious Giver of all good things, to the end that we might not run headlong upon those mischiefs wherewith we are not able to encounter, but use the remedy of shunning those evils which we have not ability to withstand? Hooker.
Like a child trusting her father in the dark, we can trust God in our fears.
A father said that his little girl, who was much afraid of the dark, slept at night in a crib beside his bed. Often had he been wakened during the night by a little voice saying, "Papa, it's dark! It's dark, papa! Take Nellie's hand." And when, in answer, he had taken hold of the lifted hand, she sank quietly to sleep, all her fears being taken away. The remembrance of the pleading voice had often helped him to remember, in the midst of troubles and distress, that he, too, had a Father to whom he could lift his hand and say, "Father, it is dark! Take my hand."
Trusting God’s protective hand removes fear even in life-threatening storms.
The answer of a Christian sailor, who was not sure that he could swim, when asked why he remained so calm in a fearful storm, was, "Though I sink, I shall only drop into the hollow of my Father's hand; for he holds all these waters there."
Another says, "My life hangs by a single thread: but that thread is in a Father's hand."
A child’s protective care reminds us not to fear but trust God’s presence.
A little girl enticed her father into the closet to hide from her mother, whom she heard ascending the stairs.
She proposed to close the door entirely; but her father said, "Hadn't we better have it open just a crack? 'tis so dark in here." The little creature insisted upon its being tightly latched; when she sought her father's hand, and said, in a most protecting way, "Don't be afraid, papa."
Christians can face death and loss without fear, trusting God's sovereign care and eternal life.
What can
I fear? Will it be death? but you know that
Christ is my life, and that I shall gain by death. Will it be exile? but the earth, and all its fulness, is the Lord's. Will it be the loss of wealth? but we brought nothing into the world, and can carry nothing out. Thus, all the terrors of the world are contemptible in my eyes; and I smile at all its good things. Poverty I do not fear; riches I do not sigh for; death I do not shrink from; and life I do not desire, save only for the progress of your souls. Chrysostom.
God's constant watchfulness over sinners is dreadful and inescapable, even eternally.
How dreadful is the eye of God on him who wants to sin! Do you know about Lafayette, that great man who was the friend of Washington? He tells us that he was once shut up in a little room in a gloomy prison for a great while. In the door of his little cell was a very small hole cut. At that hole, a soldier was placed day and night to watch him. All he could see was the soldier's eye; but that eye was always there. Day and night, every moment when he looked up, he always saw that eye. Oh! he says, it was dreadful! There was no escape, no hiding: when he lay down, and when he rose up, that eye was watching him. How dreadful will the eye of God be upon the sinner, as it watches him in the eternal world forever!
— Dr. J. Todd
Pagan fear of harsh gods contrasts with misguided trust in human mediators instead of God.
The pagan nations have ever stood in awe of deities, whose wrath they have deprecated, but whose love they have never dared to hope for. In the East-India Museum in London, there is an elaborately-carved ivory idol, from India, with twelve hands, and in every hand a different instrument of cruelty. Papists put God far away, and trust to the intervention of priests, of saints, and of the virgin. Prayers for a man must still go on after his death, and money be paid to buy God off from his vengeance. On the door of the Cathedral of St. Nicholas, in Fribourg, Switzerland, I saw a notice requesting the prayers of the charitable for a youth who had died a few days before, "fortified by the sacraments of the church;" and, inside, a painting of sundry persons in the flames of purgatory, with a contribution-box underneath, and this inscription, "Oh! rescue us; you, at least, who are our friends." C. D. Foss.
Fear of unknown consequences can prevent people from using God-given resources.
The winter at Pekin is severe, and fuel scarce. Large coal-beds exist in the vicinity; but the Chinese do not dare to work them underground, for fear of destroying the equilibrium of the earth, and turning the Celestial Empire upside down.
Infidels often show cowardice and remorse when confronted by real danger or death.
INFIDELS, Cowardice of Volney, overtaken by a heavy storm at sea, ran about, crying, "O my God! O my God! what shall I do?" He was so ashamed of himself, that he hid away from his fellow-passengers, who had previously heard his boastful scoffs against Christianity. Paine, who once said, "I have gone up and down through the Christian Garden of Eden, and with my simple axe I have cut down one after another of its trees, till I have scarce left a sapling standing," lived to say, amid the agonies of remorse, "I would give worlds, if I had them, that 'The Age of Reason' had never been published. Lord Byron rallied his failing courage thus, 'Shall I sue for mercy?' At length he added, 'Come, come; no weakness; let's be a man to the last.'"
A moral code includes fearing God and considering eternal consequences before sinning.
My son, I wish thee to observe these six maxims, which comprehend all the morality of the ancients and moderns: 1. Have no attachment to the world but in proportion to the short duration of thy life. 2. Serve God with all that fervor which the need thou hast of him demands. 3. Labor for the other life that awaits thee, and consider the time it must endure. 4. Strive to escape that fire out of which those who are once cast in can never escape. 5. If thou hast temerity enough to sin, measure beforehand the strength thou shalt require to enlure the fire of hell and the chastisements of God. 6. When thou wishest to transgress, seek for a place where God cannot see thee.
— Lockman
No place is hidden from God's omniscient eye; all secrets will be revealed.
Spencer tells of a village in England, called Wotton, to which it was said God never came. Could such a place be found now, it would be more thronged than Saratoga. To obtain a residence in some land where God's eye never penetrated, what would not men give? What labors, what journeys perform? Hopeless task! The omniscient eye reads all secrets, and the omnipotent hand will one day rend all masks.
Both good and bad men fear the eternal consequences of their portion in riches.
Good men, like St. Gregory and Luther, have feared lest they should have their portion, like Dives, in this life; bad men, that they should not have it.
God’s all-seeing eye means we cannot hide sin from Him, like a fish in a clear vase.
In Mr. Ralph Wells's school the other day, the lesson was about God's all-seeing eye. On the blackboard, Mr. Wells placed the words, "Thou God seest me." He then held up a vase of water, in which a gold-fish was swimming about. "Now, children," said Mr. Wells, "see this fish hide. Do you see him now?"—"Yes, sir," the children shouted. "Do you see him now?"—"Yes, sir."—"Now do you see him?"—"Yes, sir: yes, sir," they all said. "Can't he hide from you?"—"No, sir."—"Why?"—"Because we see right through the glass."—"So," said Mr. Wells, "God sees right through our hearts. We cannot hide from him." My little readers, every time you see a vase and its goldfish, remember the words of this little lesson. Thou God seest me. Picture Paper.
Fear of eternal judgment before God causes the rabbi to weep despite human kings.
When Rabbi Jochanan Ben Zachai was sick, his disciples came to visit him, and when he saw them, he began to weep. They said to him
"Rabbi, the light of Israel, the right hand pillar, wherefore dost thou weep?" He answered, "If they were carrying me before a king of flesh and blood, who is here to-day and to-morrow in the grave, who, if he were angry with me, his anger would not last for ever; if he put me in prison, his prison would not be everlasting; if he condemned me to death, that death would not be eternal; whom I could soothe with words, or bribe with riches; yet even in such circumstances I should weep. But now I am going before the King of kings, the holy and blessed God, who liveth and endureth, who, if he be angry with me, his anger will last for ever; if he put me in prison, his bondage will be everlasting; if he condemn me to death, that death will be eternal; whom I cannot soothe with words, nor bribe with riches; when, farther, there are before me two ways, the one to hell and the other to paradise, and I know not into which they are carrying me, shall I not weep?"
Fear of death prompts seeking the Savior before it's too late.
A young man, on whom sentence of death was passed, said, two days before his execution, "I am afraid that nothing but the fear of death and hell makes me seek the Savior now, and that I cannot expect to find him. The words, 'Seek ye the Lord while he may be found,' trouble my mind very much, as they show me that there is a time when he may not be found."
### 130. DENIAL
Fear and dependence on God help overcome youthful temptations and discouragement.
I well remember, said an eminent minister in North Wales, that when the Spirit of God first convinced me of my sin and danger, and of the many difficulties and enemies I must encounter, if ever I intended reaching heaven, I was often to the last degree in fear; the prospect of the many strong temptations and allurements, to which my youthful years would unavoidably expose me, greatly discouraged me. I often used to tell an aged soldier of
Fear of a fortune-teller's prediction crushed Byron's hope and fighting spirit in illness.
TELLER.—Lord Byron, when a boy, was warned by a fortune-teller, that he should die in the 37th year of his age. That idea haunted him, and in his last illness, he mentioned it as precluding all hope of his recovery. It repressed, his physician says, that energy of spirit so necessary for nature in struggling with disease. He talked of two days of the week as unlucky days, on which nothing would tempt him to commence any matter of importance; and mentioned as an excuse for indulging such fancies, that his friend Shelley, the poet, had a familiar who had warned him that he should perish by drowning, and such was the fate of that highly gifted but misguided man.
176.177
FORTUNE-TELLING.
Even outspoken atheists fear violent consequences for their beliefs.
One day that D'Alembert and Condorcet were dining with Voltaire, they proposed to converse of atheism, but Voltaire stopped them at once. "Wait," said he, "till my servants have withdrawn; I do not wish to have my throat cut to-night."
217. Shown by their Confessions in favor of Christianity.
A mother fears accusing her son to the Inquisition, showing religious oppression's impact on family.
Blanco White remarks, "Believe a man, who has spent the best years of his life where Roman Catholicism is professed without the check of dissenting opinions, where it luxuriates on the soil which fire and sword have cleared of whatever might stint its natural and genuine growth; a growth incessantly watched over by the head of the church, and his authorized representatives, the inquisitors."
He then states, "I had a mother, remarkable for the powers of her mind, and the goodness of her heart. No woman could love her children more ardently, and none of those children was more vehemently loved than myself. But the Roman Catholic creed had poisoned in her the purest source of affection. I saw her during a long period unable to restrain her tears in my presence. I perceived that she shunned my conversation, especially when my university friends drew me into topics above those of domestic talk. I loved her, and this behavior cut me to the heart. In my distress I applied to a friend to whom she used to communicate all her sorrows: and, to my utter horror, I learned, that suspecting me of anti-catholic principles, my mother was distracted by the fear that she might be obliged to accuse me to the Inquisition, if I incautiously uttered some condemned proposition in her presence! To avoid the barbarous necessity of being the instrument of my ruin, she could find no other means but that of shunning my presence! Did this unfortunate mother overrate or mistake the nature of her Roman Catholic duties? By no means. The Inquisition was established by the supreme authority of her church, and under that authority she was enjoined to accuse any person whatever, whom she might overhear uttering heretical opinions. No exception was made in favor of fathers, children, husbands, wives; to conceal was to abet their errors, and thus doom two souls to eternal perdition! A sentence of excommunication, to be incurred by the fact of having thus acted, was annually published against all persons, who having heard a proposition, directly or indirectly, contrary to the Roman Catholic faith, omitted to inform the inquisitors of it. Could any sincere Roman Catholic slight such a command?" Protestants, what think ye of such a system?
Mr. Fuller’s solemn fear of God silenced profane young men on a mail coach journey.
On one occasion, the Rev. A. Fuller, when traveling in the Portsmouth mail, was much annoyed by the profane conhe knew, gave any evidence of being really regenerated. Soon after their recovery, they plunged, as a general thing, into the follies and vices of the world. Who would trust, then, in such a conversion?
# OF SIN.
versation of two young men who sat opposite to him. After a time, one of them, observing his gravity, accosted him with an air of impertinence, inquiring, in rude and indelicate language, whether, on his arrival at Portsmouth, he should not indulge himself in a manner corresponding with their own vicious intentions. Mr. Fuller, lowering his ample brows, and looking the inquirer full in the face, replied in a measured and solemn tone, "Sir, I fear
God." Scarcely a word was uttered during the remainder of the journey.
Risking small gain for great loss shows foolishness and fear of judgment.
A soldier of Marshal Saxe's army, being discovered in theft, was condemned to be hung. What he had stolen might be worth five shillings. The Marshal meeting him, as he was led to execution, said to him: "What a miserable fool you were to risk your life for five shillings." "General," replied the soldier, "I have risked it every day for five pence." This repartee saved his life.
