struction, which everything has, or may
have, for the soul of man. The flower, and the star, the grass of the
field, the outspread ocean, are full of lessons; they perform a mission
to our spiritual nature, if we will receive it. We may pass them by as
simply material forms, the decorations or conveniencies(sic) of this
our natural life. But if we will come to them in a religious spirit, and
study all their meaning, they will be to us ministers of God, impressive
and eloquent as human lips, and filled with truths instructive as any
that man can utter.

Jesus illustrated his teachings by these objects. He made everything
that was at hand perform a mission for the human soul. The lilies of the
field were clothed with spiritual suggestion, and the fowls of the air,
as they flew through the trackless firmament, bore a lesson of truth and
consolation. As if to show that there is nothing, however small, that
is insignificant, and that has not its mission, he selected the falling
sparrow to be a minister of wisdom, and dignified the wayside well as a
clear and living oracle of the divinest truth.

In the instance before us, the object selected was a little child. In
reply to the question, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"
Jesus set this little one in the midst of his disciples and said,
"Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little
children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." Thus did he
rebuke their sensuous ideas of greatness by a spiritual truth, and make
a little child the teacher of profound and beautiful wisdom. I do not
propose, however, at this time, to dwell upon the precise doctrines
which Christ taught in the instance, but having, as it were, the little
child set in our midst, to draw from it further lessons that may do us
good. In one word, I propose to speak of the mission of little children.

In using this term "mission," I wish to have no obscurity about my
meaning. I refer, by it, to the influence which little children may
exert upon us,--to the effects which they may produce,--rather than to
any direct object which they can have in view, or for which they set
themselves to work. They may be unconscious missionaries; indeed, to a
great extent, they are so. But so are the lilies of the field and the
birds of the air. Yet if we believe that God is the ordainer of all
wisdom and of all good, that he uses an object or event in numberless
ways, and makes it the unc