The Greatness of the Littles.
By T. L. Cuyler
THE lordly Hudson has its birthplace in the crystal pool among the Adirondacks known as the "Tear of the Clouds." The splendid suspension bridge at Niagara first went over that profound chasm as a tiny kite-string. Let no one despise the day of small things. The noblest Christian lives often have their origin in some faithful word spoken in love, or in the reading of a tract, or in some small occurrence, or in a single resolution to break with some besetting sin. One sentence seems to have brought the ardent Peter and the beloved John to their decision of discipleship. One sentence converted the jailer of Philippi. The outcome of those few words has been felt in the spiritual history of thousands of others since that day; Paul little knew how many souls, in all time, he was addressing when he said to the frightened jailer, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." In fact, nobody ever knows how much good he is doing when he does just one good thing. A word of praise from his mother made Benjamin West a painter, and president of the Royal Academy. A kind sentence or two of commendation bestowed on a short talk in a prayer-meeting led me to my decision to enter the sacred ministry. From that incident I learned never to underrate the influence of a few words spoken at a critical moment. All the most important events of my own life have hinged on a very small pivot; this is probably true with most people; and how it magnifies the power of the littles! That noble Boanerges of the Western New York pulpit, Dr. William Wisner, of Ithaca, said that he stopped, on a hot summer day, at a farmhouse for a glass of water. The farmer's daughter handed him the refreshing draught, and he repaid her by a kind, tender word about Jesus as the water of life. Several years afterwards a middle-aged woman recognized him on the deck of a steam-boat, and thanked him for the few plain, faithful words which led her to Christ. It is a sin and a shame that we Christians let slip so many opportunities to drop a word of truth through an open ear into an open soul. Grant that many a truth thus dropped has not sprouted; neither has every sermon preached been the means of converting a soul. But the awakening power of a discourse has often laid in a single point pressed home. It is the tip of the arrow that penetrates the "joints of the harness." The great lesson in the saving of souls is never to "despise the day of small things," never to lose an opportunity, and never to underrate the power of a single truth spoken in love. Revivals in a church commonly start in one or two hearts. The first revival in the little church among whom my own ministry was spent, began in the heart of a little girl. Her few words awakened one woman, and that woman came at once to me, and proposed special meetings; out of those meetings flowed fifty conversions; they were worth more to me than any year in a Theological Seminary. There is another side to the influence of the littles. If the usefulness of a Christian depends on small acts well done, so the mischief wrought by inconsistent Christians arises from the indulgence of what seem to be small sins. We are often great sinners in little things. Little meannesses of conduct, little irritations of temper, little fibs and small spites and small affronts are the "foxes" that will spoil a very promising grapevine. A snow-flake is a tiny thing, but enough of them may be heaped up on a wintry day to blockade a locomotive and its train. So the aggregate amount of inconsistent acts and neglects of duty destroys many a Christian influence; these snow-banks block up revivals, and impede the progress of a church. What mischief a handful of fire once wrought in Chicago! What wide-spread evil has been done in a church by a single scandal or a single quarrel! God emphasizes our personal responsibility by such facts; our Master bids us be careful to keep the least of his commandments. A whole ship is often at the mercy of a single leak, or a single coal of fire. No sin is a trifle. No sin can be safely allowed to get headway. "Let that worm alone, and it will kill your tree," said a man once to a gardener in his park. Sure enough, the gardener neglected the little borer, and the next year yellow leaves showed that the tree had been assassinated by the worm. Facts prove that most of the spiritual declension and the most lamentable bankruptcies of character began with the indulgence of single sins. Everything, however minute in appearance, that affects character is great. In God's sight no truth and no sin is a trifle. His crops of grace all grow out of tiny seeds; his retributions of righteous wrath are kindled by sparks. The day of Judgment will apply the microscope. May God help you and me to be "faithful in that which is least," may every moment of our lives be so spent as to yield "compound interest" for Christ in eternity.—T. L. Cuyler.