A Spanish priest relates that some years ago a wooden case was sent to the police authorities at Valladolid. It had been shipped by railway and contained the dead body of one of that city's residents who had suddenly disappeared. Inquiries were made which led to the arrest of two women suspected of having murdered him. They practically confessed the crime and were sentenced to death.
"I was," said the priest, "one of a company of priests appointed to attend such unhappy criminals in their last days and it was my duty to pass two nights and a day in the chapel to which the condemned were sent just before their execution. It was from this custom that the Spanish expression comes, 'to enter the chapel,' which signifies the fate awaiting them.
"One of these women, called Jane, the Navarise, was specially put in my charge. The despair of this unhappy creature was most pitiable. Fear of her approaching death and the judgment of God without any opportunity of redeeming her crime by good works gave her excruciating torture. I tried in vain to calm her by telling her of the confession she was about to make, of the cruel death she was about to suffer in expiation of her deed, and especially of the absolution which she would receive at my lips when the end came. All this made little impression, and wringing her hands, she exclaimed: `Who knows that this will be sufficient to obtain God's pardon? Oh, what can I do to get His forgiveness for my sins, lost and ruined as I am?'
"Time was passing; night was nearly gone and the rays of the morning sun began to illumine the eastern sky. I had exhausted my consolations and felt keenly the insufficiency of man's words in the presence of such anguish. At length, but without realizing the import of my words, I said: 'But the blood of Christ should be of some avail.'
“`Ah,' she said, as she seized with the avidity of a drowning man the rope I held out to her. 'Yes, the blood of Christ should be of some avail.'
" 'Not only,' I replied, 'is the blood of some avail, but it is all availing; for the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth from all sin.'
“‘Is that true?' she said eagerly, between hope and despair.
“‘Yes,' I replied. 'It is the apostle John who gives it to us in the name of God.'
“‘Oh, why did you not tell me that sooner?' said the woman, and I was surprised at the calm expression which came over her pale face as the result of hearing these words.
"After a moment's silence she again said: 'The blood of Christ cleanses from all sin, but what have I to do that my sins may be cleansed by that blood?'
“‘My daughter,' I answered, 'look to Jesus upon the cross, and pronounce the words uttered by His divine lips as He expired: 'Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.' Jesus died thus, and you may also, for none can pluck you out of the hands of God.'
"The poor condemned woman cast herself down upon the stone floor, repeating again and again: `Forgiven through the purifying blood of Jesus! O Lord, receive my soul.'
"Some hours later I stood with this penitent woman at the fatal gallows. The terrors of divine judgment returned and she cried out: 'But I have sinned, and I am about to appear in the presence of God! Oh, what will become of me?'
“‘Jane,' I said, 'you can do nothing; but the blood of Jesus does all.'
"As though this assurance restored her courage she faltered no more as she ascended the gallows, but said: 'The blood of Jesus has washed my sins away; I commend my spirit into Thy hands.'
"A moment later and human justice had satisfied its demands.”
Five years later the same priest was walking on one of the principle streets of Madrid. As he was passing along a stranger accosted him and after a few friendly remarks handed him a little book. On being asked what it was about the stranger replied: "It concerns the precious blood of Christ." And so saying he quickly disappeared.
The priest then looked at the tract and he saw that the title read: "Surely for you also there is a Savior." Just at that moment another individual who had seen what was transpiring approached him. Alarmed at being seen reading the tract, he hastily tore it up and scattered the pieces abroad. He continued his walk with the relief which one feels on being delivered from a calamity ready to break upon him. Yet although satisfied as to the escape which he had made, the soft, grave voice of the first stranger still rang in his ears: "The blood of Christ." This brought back vividly to his recollection the remembrance of the prison scene with all the details of the horrid crime, the sentence and the gallows. This led to the personal application of the question: "Why, if the value of the blood of Christ availed for the consolation and assurance of the woman who was executed, should it not also for you? And if so, why have you destroyed the paper which has thus recalled this truth to your mind?”
He retraced his steps; but the torn pieces had been scattered by the wind and he could find only one small bit of the red cover. Upon it was printed: "Surely for you also there is a Savior." This he read again and again with deep emotion. Back came the solemn and disturbing questions: Did you deceive this poor woman as she was on the threshold of eternity by telling her there was pardon through the blood of Christ? Were your words senseless consolations? Were they merely the cold and lifeless remembrance of what you had read and which in your own soul you did not believe? And especially the word which strengthened her for the dark passage, as with her eyes turned toward the unseen world, upon the brink of which she appealed to Jesus and committed her spirit into God's hands: did this cry find no response? And would the flames of hell be the cruel answer to her ardent faith, to her childlike confidence? No, no! That is not possible, that cannot be! That word was true. But if it is so why do you reject it for yourself, and seek pardon for your own sins by other means?
He could not disengage his mind from this serious consideration, and the words of the tract resounded unceasingly in his ears—they pressed upon him so heavily that a few weeks later he went to a gospel preaching. There, strange to say, though surely it was of God, the preacher took for his text, "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin.”
"My conversion," says the priest, "dates from that day. The words which years before I had spoken to the poor criminal, by the grace of God became the foundation of my joyful hope, my present calm and profound assurance.”