A SHORT time ago, whilst in France, I received a visit from a French gentleman, well known in former days amongst the Roman Catholic priesthood as M. I’ Abbé F. “We meet as children of God,” he said, “as believers in the one Saviour.” I knew this, for I had heard of his preaching the Gospel on the previous evening.
“How is it,” I asked, “that you are no longer a priest and a Roman Catholic?” “I was a priest sixteen years ago,” he said, “I can scarcely say I was a Roman Catholic, for up to that time I had been an atheist, though I had been a priest for several years. I took it up as a profession. When I spoke to other priests about my convictions that there was no truth in Christianity, and that there was no God, they said, ‘We are not required to believe anything, we are only required to perform the services of the Church; you need have no scruples about it.’
“But, godless as I was, I had been brought up with a sense of honor, and as time went on I felt it would be impossible for me to go on acting a lie. I therefore went to my bishop, and told him I was an unbeliever, and that I could no longer endure to say and do things which deceived others.
“He told me he could not regard me as a good Catholic, and that he hoped I should come to a better mind. But I said I had no intention of altering my mind, and that thenceforward I wished to be known not as a Christian, but as an atheist.
“I therefore broke off my connection with the Church of Rome, and considered myself a free man.
“Soon after this, a Protestant pastor living at Paris, M. de P., heard of me, and invited me to read the Bible with him in the evenings at his house. I thought I should like to hear what Protestants have to say, so I went to these readings. I found the pastor a very clever man, and very learned, and I could not in the least answer his arguments.
“Nevertheless, the effect of his explanations was to convince me more firmly that there was no God. I can scarcely say why I continued to go there, but I did so for some months.
“One day, in the streets of Paris, a poor and shabby-looking man, with a pack on his back, came up to me. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘do you know that you are a sinner, and that Jesus is the Saviour of sinners? Go straight to Him, and He will save you.’
“I said not a word, for I was speechless: but I turned round and went straight back to my lodging. I shut myself up in my room, and I knelt down, and gave myself up to Christ.
“In that moment I knew that He was there, and that He loved me with unutterable love. He saved me there and then. I was so happy and thankful, I could do nothing but praise God.
“When I came to myself, I thought, ‘How is this? an hour ago I did not believe there was a God, and now I know Him, and He loves me.’ I needed nothing to convince me, He was there Himself.
“The next day I went to M. de P. I said to him, ‘Jesus has saved me.’
“He looked very much amazed, and said, ‘So you are convinced at last.’
“‘No,’ I said, ‘I needed no convincing. He saved me Himself, I see it all now; He has opened my eyes, and given me forgiveness and eternal life.’ And then I told him about the poor man who had spoken to me.
“To my astonishment he looked at me with a strange sort of displeasure. ‘You refused to believe everything I said to you,’ he said, ‘and now you believe what a poor, shabby man said, whom you met in the street.’
“‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ I said, ‘it was not the poor man I believed, but God; if God chooses to speak by the mouth of a poor, shabby man, He can do so; and it was God who spoke to me.’
“M. de P., you see, had been hammering all those months at my brains, but he did not know that my heart was miserable. The words that the man spoke went straight to my heart, and my heart turned to Christ, and He welcomed me, and filled me with His love and peace. So now, for nearly ten years, I have been preaching His blessed Gospel.”
“Did you ever see the man again?”
“Yes, one day, to my great joy, I met him. I found he was a colporteur, selling Bibles.
“‘Ah,’ I said to him, ‘you never did a better day’s work than when you stopped me in the street, and told me to go straight to Jesus.’ I have often seen him since, and consider him my best friend. And I have seen many, many others brought to Christ by the same message, for there are many hearts as miserable as my heart was once, and Christ is the Saviour of all the miserable and lost ones who go straight to Him.”
Miserable and unsatisfied ones, who read this paper, “to you is the word of this salvation sent.” To you Christ calls by these simple words. Over you, Christ yearns with unspeakable love, if haply you will hear His voice, and open the door of your dark and dreary heart to Him. Do you doubt it? Ask Him if these glad tidings are true, “go straight to Him.”
F. B.