WHEN paying a visit to some friends, who had been brought to the knowledge of the Saviour by means of the study of the holy Scriptures, I was introduced to a gentleman, a friend of theirs, who had been in attendance on a royal personage. He had traveled much with his royal mistress—had visited most of the courts of Europe, and seemed to take a sad pleasure in describing the wickedness to be found in high life. My heart ached for this old man, and silently but earnestly did I look up to Him who is the disposer of all hearts to give me a word to speak in due season. I will relate as nearly as possible the substance of the conversation which we had together.
M. L. L.’s royal mistress, whom he described as being as wicked as she was devout, was in the habit of paying her devotions to the statue of a weeping virgin, which, when she approached, was seen to shed tears of sympathy and compassion. M. L. L. informed us that these tears were caused to flow through heating some water inside the figure by means of a spirit lamp.
M. L. L., though convinced of these absurdities, was yet proud to assure me of his entire confidence in the authority of the religion to which he belonged. This I did not attempt to dispute, but believing that the word of God, by the power of the Holy Ghost, alone can convince the conscience of the true nature of sin, and touch the heart with a sense of the amazing love of God, I urged him to study that word for himself, and this he promised to do.
He went on to describe some of the evil practices that had come under his notice, adding, “But I know that I, too, am a good-for-nothing man.”
This gave me the opportunity for which I had been watching.
“I am glad,” I said, “that, like myself, you have discovered that you are bad, because it was for such that Jesus died. Monsieur,” I continued, “I am speaking of real Christianity, and not of Protestantism or Catholicism. Did not our Saviour Himself say, ‘I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance’? Now it is evident that if I do not know myself to be what God describes me to be, I do not see my need of a Saviour.”
After this interview, I sent this gentleman a New Testament, which I learned he read with interest. He was anxious to see me again, to hear more of the Saviour of sinners! When I met him again, he came forward, and with a pleased expression, said, “I have to thank you for your present.”
I exclaimed, “The New Testament!”
“It is my constant companion,” he said “Do you remember our first conversation and what you told me of the true nature of sin, and of Christ, the Saviour of sinners? That conversation has remained engravers on my memory. Do you know I had lived to be sixty-five, and had seen so much wickedness in the world, that I had ceased to believe in anybody or anything? But some of your words have remained here” (touching his forehead); “and I can tell you that you have shown me the railway to heaven!”
My doubting heart would hardly allow ME to believe what I heard, and, after a little further conversation, I took my leave of him, promising to see him again shortly.
For some time after my departure, he re maned talking, with evident delight, of God’s wonderful salvation, exclaiming again and again, “How could I have lived to be sixty-five without knowing before of this simple way of being saved?” He showed his friends several passages in the Bible on which he dwelt with great delight.
One evening, soon after this, being apparently in good health, he retired to rest as usual. At half-past eleven the next morning the servant observed that his door was open, and that he had fallen on the bed, and found that he was dead! His New Testament, which had shown him the way to heaven, was at his bedside.
Reader, what use are you making of that wonderful treasure, the word of God? M. A.