And I am afraid of little sins because they grow so great. No
one can tell whereunto sin will lead. The beginnings of sin are
like the leakings of water from a mighty reservoir; first an
innocent ooze, then a drip, then a tiny stream, then a larger
vein, then a flood, and the rampart gives way and the town
is swept to ruin. The habits of sin are like the habits of
burglars, who sometimes take a little fellow and put him through
a window too small for a man to enter, and the child must open
the door for the burglar gang to pass. So with little sins; they
creep in and open the door for larger to enter. A little sin is
the thin edge of the wedge, and when once inserted it can be
driven home till it splits and ruins the life.--A. H. C.
MORSE.
(1865)
* * * * *
I remember, when a lad, the so-called army-worms first swept
across the fields. They went straight ahead, and moved like
a mighty host with captains. They were little things, but
when they were gone the fields looked as tho they had been
swept by a fire. So a thousand little wrongs in the life can
rob it of beauty as really as one great, blazing, public
transgression.--A. H. C. MORSE.
(1866)
* * * * *
I am afraid of little sins because they involve a great
principle. You go into a bank with a check for $1,000, and in
his hurry the clerk passes out $1,100, and you walk out of the
bank with that sum. You agree with me, I suppose, that you do a
dishonest thing--that you have stolen $100. Would it not be the
same if your check called for $5, and he gave you $6 by mistake?
You ride on a train to Boston, and by some oversight your ticket
is not collected, and you ride back on that very same ticket.
You agree with me that the thing is wrong. Is it not the same
when you ride on a trolley car and elude the conductor, or slip
past the gateman and enter the train? In either case the man is
a thief.--A. H. C. MORSE.
(1867)