"THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS."
(Zechariah iv. 10.)
The second temple was much smaller than, and very inferior to, the first, and from it were wanting the ark, the Shechinah glory, the sacred fire, and the Urim and Thummim. Hence we read that, when it was erected and dedicated, the older men that had seen the former temple wept (Ezra iii. 12). Compared with that, the second temple saw but a "day of small things" (Hag. ii. 3).
And thus do we sometimes speak of the days of childhood and youth, and rightly so. Young people are small in stature and little in ability. Their minds are not much cultivated at present, their faculties undeveloped. Their views of things are narrow and circumscribed. They have seen and know but little of the world, or, indeed, of anything at all. But children are not to be despised on that account. We who are older must not think depreciatingly of them, nor should the young depreciate themselves—their abilities, their time, their opportunities. Do not waste your precious moments, for yours is a golden age, which will quickly pass away, and can never return.
Do not imagine that you are too young to exert any influence over others for good or harm. You may, and do, influence not only your companions, but many older people also. As children and youths are old enough to sin, they are old enough also to be impressed by the Spirit of God—yea, even savingly converted, if God so will it.
Not long ago, a very little boy, dying, was heard to say, "Oh, Lord Jesus, please make room for a little boy!" and I doubt not, his prayer was as real and as acceptable to God as was that of the dying malefactor, "Lord, remember me," &c. Another dear little fellow said, "If I ever get to heaven, I'll go straight up to Jesus, throw my arms around His neck, and say, 'I'm come! I'm come!'"
Very little things are not without their importance or value. The earth is nourished all summer by tiny dew-drops. The greatest mountains, even huge Chimilari, towering five and a half miles into the clouds, and all the other peaks in the Himalaya and Andes ranges, are formed of tiny molecules of earthy matter.
Take a lesson from the coral formations. These are the work of a very little creature called a polype, or sea-anemone. Recent research has led to the discovery of much that is highly interesting respecting these little creatures. One polype, fixing its minute body to the rocky bottom of the sea, discharges a chalky secretion, which gradually grows up a branched trunk. The end of each branch is terminated by another polype; and thus it divides and multiplies itself, until a huge mass of red coral is formed. The more common white coral is similarly produced.
Beware of what are called "little sins." Do not think them mere trifles. Bad in themselves, they likewise extend and grow into habits. These, once acquired, will hold you down with the force of a mighty chain.
Of late years vine-stocks have been imported from America into France and Italy. Upon these a tiny insect, called phylloxera, has been found—so small that thirty-three of them placed lengthwise would not measure more than an inch; and yet so destructive have these tiny things proved, and so rapidly have they been known to spread, that they have been the destruction of more than a million acres of vines.
"HER FATHER'S BAD WAYS MADE HER LIFE HARD." (See page 38.)
One has well observed that "a great sin committed once shows where the devil has been; but petty sins, nourished into a habit, show where the devil lives."
One of the discoveries of modern medical science is, that the disease known as cholera may be produced by a microscopic insect (the Conina Bacillus) being taken into the stomach inadvertently with our food. This minute creature propagates with enormous rapidity in the blood, until that terrible malady is the result. Thus many great things are developed from the very smallest—not only great evils, but great blessings also.
In doing good, we must not despise "the day of small things." The beginnings, though imperfect and weak, are not without their own peculiar value, and ultimately they lead on to excellence.
Travellers on the continent are often struck by the contrast exhibited between two paintings which are shown in the museum at Rotterdam. The one is exceedingly poor—a mere daub. The most enthusiastic connoisseur cannot discover in it any mark of genius. The other painting is a grand work of art, almost priceless in value. Yet, strange to say, the same painter executed both—the celebrated Rembrandt. The first illustrates the commencement of his career as an artist; the other is a masterpiece, while many years of earnest, patient toil intervened.
There must be a beginning to all things, and many dear Sabbath scholars have been instrumental of good to their parents and friends. I will mention one instance of this, selected from scores which have come under notice at different times.
In a miserable home there once resided a drunken father, with one girl, his only child. Of course, he took no particular interest in her welfare, either body or soul. But some kind friend got her to attend a Sabbath School. There she was brought to know and love the Saviour, and often during the week, while attending to the house, she was known to sing the sweet hymns she had learned. This was her only comfort, for her father's bad ways made her life hard.
One day, when she was thus occupied, her father was in another room, sleeping off his drunkenness. On awaking, he heard the little maid singing—
"There is a happy land,
Far, far away."
The Lord was pleased to use these words for another awakening. The grace of God touched his heart, and he said to himself, "Yes, it must be far away for her, poor thing; it cannot be here with me." That thought came from God. It melted his frozen heart, brought him to his knees, caused him to utter strong cries for mercy, led him to ask his little daughter to explain the way of salvation, and ultimately he was enabled to rejoice in pardoning mercy.
Dear young Gleaners, may the Lord thus be pleased to bless the reading of the Little Gleaner, and the instruction imparted in the Sabbath School, first to your own soul, and then make you a similarly honoured instrument of good to others.
A. E. Realff.
Dunstable.
God never wrought miracles to convince atheism, because His ordinary works convince it.
A sunny, happy face naturally, is worth a world of recipes upon cheerfulness. Only let one possessing it come into a room where there are a number of melancholy souls, and see how soon the magnetic influence begins to relax the lines of care around the mouth and eyes of the burdened ones, and the light of forgotten smiles to illumine the dark faces! The very breath of summer has blown through the room, bringing the breath of meadow sweets on its wings.