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THE PREACHING OF CHRIST is the whip that flogs the devil. The preaching of Christ is the thunderbolt, the sound of which makes all hell shake.

The heaviest end of the cross lies ever on His shoulders. If He bids us carry a burden, He carries it also.

I am never ashamed to avow myself a Calvinist; I do not hesitate to take the name of Baptist; but if I am asked what is my creed, I reply, “It is Jesus Christ.”

As well might a gnat seek to drink in the ocean, as a finite creature to comprehend the Eternal God.

Few preachers of religion do believe thoroughly the doctrine of the Fall, or else they think that when Adam fell down he broke his little finger, and did not break his neck and ruin his race.

I am certain that I never did grow in grace one—half so much anywhere as I have upon the bed of pain.

The heart of Christ became like a reservoir in the midst of the mountains. All the tributary streams of iniquity, and every drop of the sins of his people, ran down and gathered into one vast lake, deep as hell and shoreless as eternity. All these met, as it were, in Christ’s heart, and he endured them all.

I would rather lay my soul asoak in half a dozen verses [of the Bible] all day than rinse my hand in several chapters.

There is dust enough on some of your Bibles to write damnation with your fingers.

Do you think to come to Jesus up the ladder of knowledge? Come down, sir; you will meet him at the foot.

It is a grand thing to see a man dying full of life. . . . God makes his dying people to be like the sun, which never seems so large as when it sets.

A sermon wept over is more acceptable with God than one gloried over.

On Acts 26:28—Almost persuaded to be a Christian is like the man who was almost pardoned, but he was hanged, like the man who was almost rescued, but he was burned in the house. A man that is almost saved is damned.

The most useful members of a church are usually those who would be doing harm if they were not doing good.

By Mary Ann Jeffreys

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