stream. Before them everything was green, like the garden of Eden; behind them everything was dry and desert. The vines were barked, the trees had lost every leaf, and stretched their naked arms to the sky, as if winter had torn away their foliage. There was not then so much as a single blade of grass, or sprig upon the tree, that even a goat might have eaten. The locusts had done all this, and left utter devastation in their track. Why was this? The locust is only a little thing! Indeed, but in their number how mighty they become! Dread then a little sin, for it will be sure to multiply. It is not one, it is many of these little sins. The plague of lice, or the plague of flies in Egypt, was perhaps the most terrible that the Egyptians ever felt. Take care of those little insect sins which may be your destruction. Surely if you are led to feel them, and to groan under them, and to pray to God for deliverance from them, it may be said that in your preservation is the finger of God. But let these sins alone, let them increase and multiply, and your misery is near at hand. Do not listen then to the evil voice of Satan when he cries, “Is it not a little one?”
8. Years ago there was not a single thistle in all of Australia. Some Scotchman who very much admired thistles — rather more than I do — thought it was a pity that a large island like Australia should be without that marvellous and glorious symbol of his great nation. He, therefore, collected a packet of thistle seeds, and sent it over to one of his friends in Australia. Well, when it was landed, the officers might have said, “Oh, let it in; ‘is it not a little one?’ Here is only a handful of thistledown, oh, let it come in; it will be only sown in a garden — the Scotch will grow it in their gardens; they think it is a fine flower, no doubt, — let them have it, it is only meant for their amusement.” Ah, yes, it was only a little one; but now whole districts of country are covered with it, and it has become the farmer’s pest and plague. It was a little one; but, all the worse for that, it multiplied and grew. If it had been a great evil, all men would have set to work to crush it. This little evil is not to be eradicated, and of that country it may be said until doomsday, — “Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth.” Happy would it have been if the ship that brought that seed had been wrecked. It is no boon to our countrymen there on the other side of the earth, but a vast curse. Take heed of the thistle seed; little sins are like it. Take care they are not admitted into your heart. Endeavour to shun them as soon as Satan presents them. Go, seek by the grace of God and his Holy Spirit to keep them away; for if not, these little sins will multiply so fast, that they will be your ruin and destruction.
9. Once again; little sins, after all, if you look at them in another aspect, are great. A little sin involves a great principle. Suppose that tomorrow the Austrians should send a body of men into Sardinia. If they only send a dozen it would be equal to a declaration of war. It may be said, “Is it not a little one? — a very small band of soldiers that we have sent?” “Yes,” it would be replied, “but it is the principle of the thing. You cannot be allowed with impunity to send your soldiers across the border. War must be proclaimed, because you have violated the frontier, and invaded the land.” It is not necessary to send a hundred thousand troops into a country to break a treaty. It is true the breach of the treaty may appear to be small; but if the slightest breach is allowed, the principle is gone. There is very much more in principle than men imagine. In a sin against God, it is not so much the thing itself as the principle of the thing at which God looks; and the principle of obedience is as much broken, as much dishonoured by a little sin as by a great sin. Oh man! the Creator has made you to obey him. You break his law; you say it is only a little breach. Still it is a breach. The law is broken. You are disobedient. His wrath abides on you. The principle of obedience is compromised in your smallest transgression, and, therefore, it is great. Besides, I do not know whether the things Christian men call little sins are not, after all, greater than what they call great sins, in some respects. If you have a friend, and he does you a displeasure for the sake of ten thousand pounds, you say, “Well, he had a very great temptation. It is true he has committed a great fault, but still he has wronged me for some purpose.” But suppose your friend should vex and grieve your mind for the sake of a farthing; what would you think of that? “This is wanton,” you would say. “This man has done it out of sheer malevolence toward me.” Now, if Adam had been denied by his Maker all of Paradise, and had been put into a stony desert, I do not think that, had he taken all Paradise for himself, there would have been more sin in that act, than when placed in the midst of the garden, he simply stole one fruit from the forbidden tree. The transgression involved a great principle, because he did it wantonly. He had so little to gain, he had so much to lose when he dishonoured God. It has been said, that to sin without temptation is to sin like the devil, for the devil was not tempted when he sinned; and to sin with very little temptation is to sin like the devil. When there is great temptation offered, I do not say there is any excuse, but when there is none, where the deed is very little, bringing very little pleasure, and involving only a small consequence, there is a lewdness about the sin which makes it greater in moral rectitude, than many other iniquities that men commit. Indeed, you cry out against a great felon, when he is caught; see how much he robbed men; see how he wronged the widow and robbed the fatherless! I know it. God forbid that I should make any excuse for him; but that man had a name to maintain. He had thousands of temptations before him to get immensely rich. He thought he never should be caught. He had a family to keep. He had become involved in expensive habits, and there are many things to be said for his extenuation. But you, if you indulge in some slight sin which brings you no pleasure, which involves no important interests, by which you have nothing to gain, I say you sin wantonly. You have committed an act which has in it the very virus and bitterness of wilful obstinacy, designing disobedience, because there is not even the extenuation, or excuse, or apology, that you should gain something by it. Little sins are, after all, tremendous sins, viewed in the light of God’s law. Looked upon as involving a breach of that inviolable standard of right, and considered as having been committed wantonly, I say they are great, and I do not know that those sins men conceive to be gross and great, are greater and grosser in reality than these.
10. Thus I have given you several arguments with which to answer that temptation, “Is it not a little one?”
11. Now I am about to speak to the child of God only, and I say to him, “Brother, if Satan tempts you to say, ‘Is it not a little one?’ ” reply to him, “Ah, Satan, but little though it is, it may mar my fellowship with Christ. Sin cannot destroy but it will annoy; it cannot ruin my soul, but it will soon ruin my peace. You says it is a little one, Satan, but my Saviour had to die for it, or otherwise I should have been excluded from heaven. ‘That little one’ may be like a little thorn in my flesh, to prick my heart and wound my soul. I cannot, I dare not indulge in this little sin, for I have been greatly forgiven, and I must greatly love. A little sin in others would be a great sin for me — ‘How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God.’ ”
12. Is it a little one, Satan? But a little stone in the shoe will make a traveller limp. A little thorn may breed a fester. A little cloud may hide the sun. A cloud of the size of a man’s hand may bring a deluge of rain. Be gone Satan! I can have nothing to do with you; for since I know that Jesus bled for little sins, I cannot wound his heart by indulging in them afresh. A little sin, Satan! Has not my Master said, “Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes.” Lo! these little things do mischief to my tender heart. These little sins burrow in my soul, and soon make it to become a very den and hole of the wild beasts that Jesus hates, soon drive him away from my spirit so that he will hold no comforting fellowship and communion with me. A great sin cannot destroy a Christian, but a little sin can make him miserable. Jesus will not walk with his people unless they drive out every known sin. He says, “If you keep my commandments you shall abide in my love, even as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.” There are very many Christians in the world that do not see their Saviour’s face for many months, and seem to be quite content without his company. I do not understand, nor do I wish to know how it is, that you can reconcile your souls to the absence of your Lord. A loving wife, without her husband for months and years, seems to me to be severely tried. Surely it must be an affliction for a tender child to be separated from his father. We know that in our childhood
