The Spurgeon Series 1859 & 1860. Charles H. Spurgeon
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 — they marched over the dead and burning bodies of their comrades, and on they went, one living 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