2. But the sword they wield is double-edged. It not only flays the law-breakers, it also slays the infection and the fever which have followed in their train. They are the scavengers of the atmosphere. They do for the air what the pariah dogs of the East do for the earth—they gather up and remove everything that offends, everything that occasions or breeds disease. Let no one say that the swarms of flies bring the cholera and the fever. They are the camp-followers who tread on the heels of those dreaded foes, and they feed upon and do their best to remove the foulsome odours. We need not grudge the spider his savoury morsel, but it will be a dark hour for the earth if he should gain the mastery. If he should prove too much for the fly, we shall be left to the miasmas and pestilences from which the presence of the fly relieves us.
3. Even in its death the fly renders a most substantial service. It forms the food of innumerable song-birds, which, apart from the fly, would never be found in our land at all. How dull and lifeless would the months of the summer be without the swallow, the willow-warbler, and the fly-catcher. And yet these feed almost entirely on flies. "And if the trout had not discovered what a savoury morsel the fly is that dances on the stream, what a very dull, stupid amusement would fishing be! Many a schoolboy would lose the greatest treat of a summer holiday if there were no flies, and no trout that appreciated them."
The niche filled by the fly is therefore a very important one. It neither lives a useless life nor dies a useless death. Its sphere of usefulness is as striking and suggestive as the wondrous delicacy of its form and structure, and they both point us to the Great Creator whose greatness and goodness are manifested through all His works—
"Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall."
And if the boy be the father of the man, we may justly emphasise another lesson—that the law of kindness ought to rule in the least as well as in the greatest—that he who begins by torturing a fly may end with something far more solemn—a human heart.
The Pearl-Oyster.
"Neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet."—Matt. vii. 6.
The disciples of Jesus are here told not to talk too freely of their spiritual enjoyments before men of debased tastes. Religion is brought into contempt, and its professors insulted, when it is forced upon those who cannot value it and will not have it. "Throw a pearl to a swine," says Matthew Henry, "and he will resent it, as if you threw a stone at him; reproofs will be called reproaches." Such men cannot appreciate the jewels of Christianity, and like swine, which prefer peas to pearls, they will trample them under their feet and turn again and rend you.
On the other hand, this caution is not to be carried too far. We are not to set down all our neighbours as dogs and swine, and then excuse ourselves from trying to do them good on this poor plea. The Saviour's golden rule shows us a more excellent way: "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this is the law and the prophets." We are to deal with each other as God deals with us. He does not judge us uncharitably; but still less does He give that which is holy to the dogs. He gives to each what is suitable to each. He sends His rain on the just and on the unjust; but He keeps His love for those who worship and love His Son (John xiv. 21). And that is His example to you and me. We must seek His Spirit to guide us in all things, that being made wise with His wisdom, we may ourselves possess the pearl of great price and not cast our pearls before swine.
I.—BUT WHAT IS A PEARL?