A66106:629
Mercy magnified on a penitent prodigal, or, A brief discourse
Mercy magnified on a penitent prodigal, or, A brief discourse wherein Christs parable of the lost son found is opened and applied as it was delivered in sundry sermons / by Samuel Willard ...
printed by Samuel Green for Samuel Philips, 1684
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
1. Your sins should make and keep you humble: The sin of your heart, the leprosy of your nature, the body of death, that heart-full of filthiness and corruption: your daily sins of act, in omission of duty, in transgressing the command; especially your particular enormities, Psal. 51. 1. This evil. It will be a truth for ever that you have committed things worthy of death, and are not worthy to be called sons and daughters of God, an hired servants place is too good for you.
1. Your sins should make and keep you humble: The sin of your heart, the leprosie of your nature, the body of death, that heart-ful of filthiness and corruption: your daily sins of act, in omission of duty, in transgressing the command; especially your particular enormities, Psal. 51. 1. This evil. It will be a truth for ever that you have committed things worthy of death, and are not worthy to be called sons and daughters of God, an hyred servants place is too good for you.
2. Your duties should humble you: Hast thou done any thing for God? it was not thou didst it of thy self, but the spirit in thee. And in all your duties you may see humbling considerations; how cold your affections? how little impression had they on your hearts? of how little continuance, even as the morning ⟨p. 260⟩dew? How little sincerity, how much hypocrisy? How little grace, how much corruption?
2. Your duties should humble you: Hast thou done any thing for God? it was not thou didst it of thy self, but the spirit in thee. And in all your duties you may see humbling confiderations; how cold your affections? how little impression had they on your hearts? of how little continuance, even as the morning ⟨p. 260⟩