Whiter Than Snow.

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IN one of the beautiful stately homes of England there lives a nobleman, the father of a lovely little girl, about six years of age. Little Alberta is the delight and happiness of her father’s heart, the companion and relief of his leisure moments.
One day, when alone with him in his study, Alberta suddenly ceased her childish prattle and looking up into her father’s face, asked with all the earnestness of childhood, “Father, do you know anything whiter than snow?”
“No, my darling, there is not anything whiter than snow.”
“O, but there is indeed.”
“What is it then, my child?”
“Father, the soul washed in the blood of the Lord Jesus is whiter than snow.”
The nobleman looked both annoyed and surprised.
Oh, the desperate opposition in the human heart to the truth of God! It is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can it be. There is need, not of a change, for flesh cannot be improved and remains the same to the end, but of the introduction, of another and entirely new element. “They that are in the flesh cannot please God.”
“Who taught you, this, my child?” “My nurse.”
The bell was hastily rung, and a footman appeared.
“Tell Alberts nurse, to attend.
The nurse came to the door and was questioned. She acknowledged that she had told Alberta of the value of the precious blood of Christ, which cleanses from all sin, so that the soul of the believer is seen by God without spot.
The nobleman took out his watch, and telling the nurse that such proceedings could not be allowed by him, gave her orders to leave the castle within an hour.
A short time after, a royal prince came for a few days to pay a visit to the nobleman. Great were the rejoicings, extensive the preparations, widespread the excitement this event occasioned.
One day, toward the close of his stay at the castle, his royal highness was for some minutes with the nobleman in his study, when little Alberta came running in and gamboled about the room in the gayety of her heart, as if unconscious of the august presence of her father’s guest. The beautiful, artless child at once attracted the prince’s attention. He spoke to her. She suddenly stopped, as if turning over something in her mind, and then, with the greatest simplicity, fixing her large eyes on his face, enquired’, “Prince, do You know anything that is whiter than snow?”
“No, dear,” said he, “I have never heard of anything whiter than snow, have you?”
“Oh! yes, prince; the soul washed from all its sins in the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, is whiter than snow.”
There was complete silence; the attention of the nobleman was arrested, but he said nothing.
Reader, what is the sequel? Do you anticipate it? I have only to add that the hard, proud nature of the nobleman was completely bowed down. He turned to the inspired word of God, to learn therein for himself of the atoning efficacy of the blood of Christ, who, “Through the Eternal Spirit, offered Himself without spot to God.” Christ, the Eternal Spirit; and God the Father, all interested and engaged in that stupendous transaction, which accordingly could bear, and does bear, no other stamp than that of PERFECTION.
Whether the simple word of a little child remained with the prince or not, the Day alone will declare. He did not in the least oppose the truth of the observation; and it was this (being such a contrast to himself) that struck Alberta’s father. The nurse is now re-instated in the castle, tending and teaching her precious charge; and the nobleman is now rich in faith, and heir of the kingdom which God hath promised to those who live Him. He has learned a little (oh, how little do any of us learn) of the love of the Living One who went down into the dust of death, who was dead but is alive forevermore, who gave Himself a ransom for all, who was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, and who now has ascended up on high and sat down at God’s right hand, hang obtained eternal redemption.—R. B. —Faithful. Words.
ML 09/03/1899