Part I.―the Ants.
WE are going to have a talk about four very little “people,” some of the smallest that you can think of. Can you guess what they are? I do not expect so. I think I shall have to tell you. Four things of which we read that they are little upon the earth, but are exceeding wise; and four things that will teach us four wonderful lessons, if we will listen to their teaching. We read about them in the book of Proverbs (30:24). The first of them in verse 25. “The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their meat in the summer.” Do you know what ants are? They are tiny little insects, some are black, some red, and some white. Very busy little folks they are: they live in wonderful houses made in the earth, and there they build storehouses, and nurseries, and long corridors reaching from one part of their home to the other. It is very curious to look into an ant town. I remember once when we were in the country, we had been for a long walk, and, as we were all tired, we sat down on a kind of common to rest. Presently we noticed some ants moving about, and as they appeared to come from under a large stone which was lying against a little grassy bank, we removed it, and there, running out in crowds, were the little black things; very frightened, I have no doubt, at having their rest so rudely disturbed. We looked attentively, and could still see the long, winding passages with the ants moving hurriedly up and down. When we were tired of watching them we tried to put the stone back in its place again, and came away, leaving the ants to repair the mischief we had caused.
But our verse tells us something special about the ants; first, that they are not strong, and then that they prepare their meat in the summer. They are prudent people, you see. When the summer comes, with its warm, bright sunshine, and rich, golden fruit, they lay up a store against the winter days that will surely follow; for the brightest summer must come to an end, and if they were not ready for the dark winter days, it would be too late to prepare anything, and they would all die. I wonder how many of you are like the ants; how many of you prepare your meat in the summer. “Now,” you say, “of course we do not, we do not trouble about the winter; why should we? We are not ants, we shall have plenty to eat, no matter how cold it is.” Ah! you do not understand, you are mistaking my meaning altogether; I have been thinking that the bright, happy days when you are children are like the summer of life; it is all sunshine and joy, for little children have none of the cares that grown up people have; they are generally as happy as the day is long. But dark days may come; people cannot be children always; and sickness, and want, and trouble come like cold winter winds, and the years of old age that come slowly and surely, are like the dark days of winter. Dear little children, prepare for the dark days now; in the bright sunshine of your little lives, lay up something that the cold, chill blasts of winter cannot injure or destroy. Do you know what I mean? Do you remember some words we have often read, perhaps even without thinking very much about them: “Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also?” Little people, is that your treasure? Are you laying up that treasure now, while the day is bright, and the sunshine of God’s love is shining its rays around your pathway. Do be like the ants; take advantage of the warm weather, and make sure that you have a treasure laid up for the winter months; or winter years it may be. Does it seem very strange to you that there is a treasure which can make you happy, even rejoicing in the midst of weariness, and want, and suffering? I could tell you of those whose life you would think one, long, dark winter, and yet it is enough to make them happy, far more than happy. May God give you to find that treasure, and make it your own now.
The Cony: Part―2.
We must think now about the second of our little people, they are little people too; but they are, I think, in one way wiser than the ants; the ants store their treasure at the right time, but I do not think in the right place. They make their storehouse in the earth; deep down they dig, but not deep enough to keep it perfectly safe, for you remember I told you how easily we disturbed an ant’s nest without intending to do them any harm; but, “The conies are but a feeble folk, yet make they their houses in the rocks.” Have you ever seen a cony? I do not think you have, as there are very few of them. For a long time, people thought that a cony was the same as a rabbit, but they are sure now that they are not quite the same, though conies and rabbits are very much alike. Conies are pretty little creatures, with soft, brown fur and bright, twinkling eyes; they are wise, too; they choose a safe place to live in; they do not dig deep down into the earth, and gather their treasure there, they make their houses in the rocks. How firm the rocks are! How secure! Enemies may come, and wild storms may beat against them, but they do not move; indeed, there are rocks that look only the more beautiful after a storm, for when they are wet with rain they shine like polished marble. I think you will guess what I mean now; you will not wonder about the rocks, you have so often heard it before, it is like an old, old story; but would that it might come fresh to you now, that the story of the conies might sink deep down into your hearts, and make you ask yourselves if you are as wise as they.
A rock in the Bible is very often used as an illustration of the Lord Jesus Christ. In one place, speaking of the wonderful way in which the Israelites were supplied with water from the rock, we read that “That Rock was Christ.” Yes, He is indeed the true Rock, the Rock that nothing can uproot or overturn. Are you resting in Him? Oh! I hope you are; for then you are so safe; safe for time, and safe too for that long forever, on far beyond time. I want you to be like a little cony, hiding yourself, making your dwelling place in the Rock; as the hymn says―
“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Grace hath hid me safe in Thee.”
(To be continued.)