LITTLE THINGS by Mrs. B. Hagle

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Nov 21, 1895

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 21, No. 46.

LITTLE THINGS.

By Mrs. B. Hagle

BY MRS. B. HAGLE.

LIFE is made up of little things. Discoveries are made mostly by means of little things. The art of printing owes its origin to rude impressions (for the amusement of children) from letters carved on the bark of a beech tree. It was a slight matter, which thousands would have passed over with neglect. The steam engine may all be attributed to an individual observing steam issuing from a bottle just emptied and placed casually close to a fire. He plunged the bottle’s neck into cold water and was intelligent enough to notice the instant rush which ensued from this simple apparatus. Pendulum clocks were invented from Galileo’s observing the lamp in a church swinging to and fro. The telescope we owe to some children of a spectacle maker placing two or more pairs of spectacles before each other and looking through them at a distant object. The glimpse thus afforded was followed up by older heads. So trifling a matter as the sight of seaweed floating past his ship enabled Columbus to quell the mutiny which arose among his sailors at not discovering land, and to assure them that the eagerly sought New World was not far off.

There is nothing so small that it should remain forgotten. From an anecdote from Randall’s “Life of Jefferson” it seems that flies contributed to hasten the American independence. When the question of independence was before Congress, it had its meeting near a livery stable. Its members wore short breeches and silk stockings, and, with handkerchief in hand, they were diligently employed in lashing the flies from their legs. So vexing was this annoyance, and to so great an impatience did it arouse the sufferers, that it hastened, if it did not aid in inducing, them to promptly affix their names to the great document which gave birth to our country.

It was said of Nicholas Poissin, the painter, that the rule of his conduct was that “whatever was worth doing at all was worth doing well,” and when asked late in life by what means he had gained so high a reputation among the painters of Italy, he answered, “Because I have neglected nothing.” We but recollect that trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle. When Franklin made his discovery of the identity of lightning and electricity, it was sneered at, and people asked, “Of what use is it?” to which his apt reply was: “What is the use of a child? It may become a man!”

The greatest and best of men have not been above caring for the littles. Of what is the happiness of our life made up?—Little courtesies, little kindnesses, pleasant words, genial smiles, a friendly letter, good wishes, good deeds. The little things that make up our life come every day and every hour. If we make the little events of life beautiful and good, then is the whole life full of beauty and goodness. So if children think they can not become great rivers bearing great vessels of blessing to the world, they may be little springs by the wayside of life, singing merrily all day and all night, and giving a cup of cold water to every weary, thirsty one who passes by.

Battle Creek, Mich.