bow the knee and worship the golden image which he had set up. How slight the homage! One bend of the knee, and all is done. One prostration, and they may go their way safely. Not so. They will not worship the golden image which the king has set up. They can burn for God, but they cannot turn from God. They can suffer, but they will not sin; and though all the world might have excused them with the plea of expediency, if they had performed that one little act of idol worship, yet they will not do it, but would rather be exposed to the fury of a furnace, seven times heated, than commit an offence against the Most High. So also among the early Christians. You may have read of that noble warrior for Christ, Martin Arethusa, the bishop. He had led the people to pull down the idol temple in the city over which he presided; and when the apostate emperor Julian came to power, he commanded the people to rebuild the temple. They were bound to obey on pain of death. But Arethusa all the while lifted up his voice against the evil they were doing, until the wrath of the king suddenly fell upon him. He was, however, offered his life on the condition that he would subscribe so much as a single half penny towards the building of the temple; no, less than that, if he would cast one grain of incense into the censer of the false god he might escape. But he would not do it. He feared God, and he would not commit the most tiny little sin to save his life. They therefore exposed his body, and gave him up to the children to prick him with knives; then they smeared him with honey, and he was exposed to wasps and stung to death. But all the while he would not give the grain of incense. He could give his body to wasps, and die in the most terrible pains, but he could not, he would not, he dared not sin against God. A noble example!
4. Now, brethren, if men have been able to perceive so much of sin in little transgressions, that they would bear inconceivable tortures rather than commit them, must there not be something dreadful after all in the thing of which Satan says, “Is it not a little one?” Men, with their eyes well opened by divine grace, have seen a whole hell slumbering in the most minute sin. Gifted with a microscopic power, their eyes have seen a world of iniquity hidden in a single act, or thought, or imagination of sin; and hence they have avoided it with horror, — have passed by and would have nothing to do with it. But if the straight road to heaven is through flames, through floods, through death itself, they had sooner go through all these torments than turn one inch aside to tread an easy and an erroneous path. I say this should help us when Satan tempts us to commit little sins, — this should help us to answer, “No, Satan, if God’s people think it to be great, they know better than you do. You are a deceiver; they are true. I must shun all sin, even though you say it is only little.” It may be further answered, in reply to this temptation of Satan with regard to little sins, thus: — “Little sins lead to great ones. Satan! you bid me to commit a small iniquity. I know you and who you are, you unholy one! You desire me to put in the thin end of the wedge. You know when that is once inserted you can drive it home, and split my soul in two. No, stand back! Little though the temptation is, I dread you, for your little temptation leads to something greater, and your small sin makes way for something worse.”
5. We all see in nature how easily we may prove this, — that little things lead to greater things. If it is desired to bridge a gulf, it is often the custom to shoot an arrow, and cross it with a line almost as thin as film. That line passes over and a string is drawn after it, and after that some small rope, and after that a cable, and after that the swinging suspension bridge, that makes a way for thousands. So it is oft times with Satan. It is only a thought that he would shoot across the mind. That thought shall carry a desire; that desire a look; that look a touch; that touch a deed; that deed a habit; and that habit something worse, until the man, from little beginnings, shall be swamped and drowned in iniquity. Little things, we say, lead on to something worse. And thus it has always been. A spark is dropped by some unwary traveller amidst the dry grass of the prairie. It is only a spark; “Is it not a little one?” A child’s foot may tread it out; one drop from the rain cloud may quench it. But ah! what sets the prairie in a blaze? what bids the rolling waves of flame drive before them all the beasts of the field? what is it that consumes the forest, locking it in its fiery arms? what is it that burns down the habitation of man, or robs the reaper of his harvest? It is this solitary spark, — the one spark — the breeder of the flames. So it is with little sins. Keep them back oh Satan! They are sparks, but the very fire of hell is only a growth from them. The spark is the mother of conflagration, and though it is a little one, I can have nothing to do with it. Satan always begins with us as he did with Achan. He showed Achan, first of all, a goodly Babylonian garment, and a wedge of gold. Achan looked at it: was it not a little thing to do, — to look? Achan touched it: was not that a little thing? How slight a sin — to touch the forbidden thing! He takes it, and carries it away to his tent, and — here is worse, — he hides it. And at length he must die for the awful crime. Oh! take heed of those small beginnings of sin. Beginnings of sin are like the letting out of water: first, there is an ooze; then a drip; then a slender stream; then a vein of water; and then, at last, a flood: and a rampart is swept before it, a continent is drowned. Take heed of small beginnings, for they lead to worse. There was never a man yet that came to the gallows who did not confess that he began with small thefts; — the stealing of a book at school — the pilfering, afterwards, from his master’s till leading to the joining of the gang of robbers, — the joining of the gang of robbers leading to worse crimes and, at last, the deed was done, the murder was committed, which brought him to an ignominious death. Little sins often act as burglars do; — burglars sometimes take with them a little child; they put the little child into a window that is too small for them to enter, and then he goes and opens the door to let in the thieves. So do little sins act. They are only little ones, but they creep in, and they open the door for great ones. A traitor inside the camp may be only a dwarf, and may go and open the gates of the city and let in a whole army. Dread sin; though it is ever so small, dread it. You cannot see all that is in it. It is the mother of ten thousand mischiefs. The mother of mischief, they say, is as small as a midge’s egg; {a } and certainly, the smallest sin has ten thousand mischiefs sleeping within its heart.
6. St. Augustine gives a picture of how far men will go when they once begin to sin. There was a man who in argument declared that the devil made flies; “Well,” said the man with whom he was arguing, “If the devil made flies, then it is only little more to say the devil made worms!” “Well” said the other, “I believe it.” “Well” said the man, “If the devil made worms, how do you know that did not make small birds also?” “Well,” said the other, “It is likely he did!” “Well,” resumed the man with whom he was arguing, “But if he made small birds, why may he not have made big ones? And if he made big birds, why may he not have made man? And if he made man, why may he have not made the world?” “You see,” says St. Augustine, “By one admission, by once permitting the devil to be thought the creator of a fly, the man came to believe that the devil was the Creator.” Just get one small error into your minds, get one small evil into your thoughts, commit one small act of sin in your life, permit these things to be dandled, and fondled, favoured, petted, and treated with respect, and you cannot tell how far they may grow. They are small in their infancy: they will be giants when they come to their full growth. You little know how near your soul may be to destruction, when you wantonly indulge in the smallest act of sin!
7. Another argument may be used to respond to this temptation of the devil. He says, “Is it not a little one?” “Yes,” we reply, “But little sins multiply very fast.” Like all other little things, there is a marvellous power of multiplication in little sins. As for murder, it is a masterly sin; but we do not often hear of it compared with the multitude of minor sins. The smaller the guilt, the more frequent it becomes. The elephant has only a few offspring and multiplies slowly. But the aphid {b} has thousands springing from it within an hour. It is even so with little sins: they multiply rapidly, beyond all thought — one becomes the mother of multitudes. And, note this, little sins are as mighty for mischief in their multitude, as if they were greater sins. Have you ever read the story of the locusts when they sweep through a land? I was reading only yesterday of a missionary who called all the people together when he heard that the locusts where coming up the valley; and kindling huge fires, they hoped to drive off the living stream. The locusts were only small; but it seemed as if the whole of the blazing fires were quenched
