THE evening sun was rapidly descending, gilding the bold cliffs of the distant sea-washed Esterelles with a fringe of molten purpling fire, a felucca gently stole along the deep blue waters, a red-capped seaman occasionally raising his swarthy face above the low bulwark, as though listening to the sweet strains of music which floated from amid the orange grove around the frescoed walls of the old château.
Shadow after shadow in that mass of sunset tints warned me to seek the shelter and the wood fire of my lodging in the Maison d’Auxerre; and as I entered the Place Dominique, pushing rapidly past the side pillars, and the crowd congregated around them, I was making my way towards the post-office to deposit a half-forgotten letter, when the voice of a speaker, issuing from amid the crowd, arrested my attention.
"Si si veto!" he cride. “Yes! I was miserable I was wretched. I could have envied even the very dog that ate the crusts I gave him, for I was dying—so the doctor told me—dying; leaving this beauteous world so young—ah! it was hard, hard to bear. Well, one day I had thrown aside my work, the sweet sea breeze playing in a tiny window had tempted me to do so, and to move onwards. Many days before I had felt this burning pain in my heart, and I deemed that the air might do me good. I wandered towards the Villa Franca cliffs, until I felt wearied, and laid down beneath an olive tree. The great sea foamed beneath my feet, the sea bird floated overhead, the delicious perfume of the wild flowers wafted itself to my nostrils—yet, I was dying; and then, what a prospect awaited me! I saw the gloomy flames and tortured forms writhing in the fire that I thought was to purge them for heaven. Heaven! oh, how inaccessible that blessed land appeared to me then! How my past sins seemed to rise, phantom formed, between me and it. And then I thought of the fire of purgatory, and I knew how poor I was, not even leaving a centime behind me to buy a morsel for poor Filippo.”
A curious, nondescript species of dog looked up at this moment, and licked the hand of the speaker. "Poor Filippo," I thought, "thy master will not long be with thee." A harsh cough which had from time to time apparently given the young man much annoyance, now seemed as though it would utterly deprive him of the power of resuming his address. Pressing his right hand upon his heart, he feebly resumed:
“Yes, I was truly miserable. Oh, how wretched a prospect was futurity to me! A shadow passed between me and the sun—an old white-haired man stood before me. ‘You are unhappy, friend,' he said. I was silent, for was it not the truth? I felt something fall into my lap—the old man had passed on. I took up the five-franc piece, and hastened after him. ‘Signor,' I proudly said, I am no beggar,' and handed it to him again; he seemed hurt and grieved, and hastily passed on. And so weary days passed on, wretched alternations of strength and weakness, till again, a month later, I lay 'neath the selfsame aulivier (olive tree) again.
“I believe that I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke I saw the old man by my side. We spake together; he asked me about my ailments, and then he spoke of my soul.
“A little book was in his hand; he opened it and read—
'Io vi lascio pace, Io vi do la mia pace; Io non vi la do, come it mondo Is del; it vostro cuore non sia tztrbato, et non si spaventi.'
Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you ' (John 14: 27).
“Dear friend,' he said, 'would you not desire to have this peace?’
“'Desire to have it! I cried. Desire to have it! I would give all on earth to be freed from these tormenting fears of mine and to have Mat peace.'
“Listen then,' said he, and he turned to St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. ‘Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God ' (Rom. 5:1, 2).
“'Think of these two passages, my friend, for a moment,' he said... Take this little book with you, and pray earnestly this little prayer—
“’O Signor Jesu Christo, lavami nell Sangue Tuo, E dammi il Tuo Spirit Santo.”
“O Lord Jesus Christ, wash me in Thy Blood, And give me Thy Holy Spirit.'
"That night—a restless, disturbed night—I spent upon my knees. I asked earnestly for pardon through the precious blood of Jesus. I pleaded for the Holy Spirit to be given to me. And, blessed be God, I found peace. I believed what God had said He would do for me; and next morning I was resting upon Jesus.”
"The blood of Jesus Christ His [God's] Son cleanseth us from all sin" (1 John 1:7).