Christie and Master Treffy.
"Would it have pleased me, Treffy," said the clergyman, "if you had pulled your hand back and said, 'Oh, no, sir! I don't deserve it; I don't believe you would ever give it to me; I can't take it yet?'"
"No," said Treffy, "I don't suppose it would."
"Yet this is just what you are doing to the Lord Jesus, Treffy. He is holding out His gift to you, and He wants you to take it at once, yet you hold back and say, 'No, Lord, I can't believe what you say, I can't trust Thy word, I can't believe the gift is for me, I can't take it yet.'
"Treffy," said the clergyman, earnestly, "if you can trust me, oh, why can't you trust the Lord Jesus?"
The tears were running down the old man's face, and he could not speak.
"I am going to ask you another question, Treffy," said the clergyman. "Will you trust the Lord Jesus now?"
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, through his tears; "I don't think I can help trusting him now."
"Now, Treffy, remember Jesus is in this attic, close to you, close to me, very, very near, Treffy. When we speak to Him, He will hear every word we say; He will listen to every sigh; He will read every wish.
"But, before you speak to Him, Treffy, listen to what He says to you," said the clergyman, taking His Bible from his pocket. "These are His own words, 'Come, now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,' for 'The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.' Treffy, will you trust the Lord Jesus? Do you think He would tell you a lie?"
"No," said old Treffy; "I'm sure He wouldn't."
"Very well, Treffy, then we will tell Him so."
The clergyman knelt down by Treffy's side, and Christie knelt down too, and old Treffy clasped his trembling hands whilst the clergyman prayed.
It was a very simple prayer; it was just taking the Lord at His word. Old Treffy repeated the words after the clergyman with the deepest earnestness, and when he had finished the old man still clasped his hands and said, "Lord Jesus, I do trust Thee, I do take the gift, I do believe Thy word."
Then the clergyman rose from his knees and said, "Treffy, when you had taken my gift, what did you do next?"
"I thanked you for it, sir," said Treffy.
"Yes," said the clergyman, "and would you not like to thank the Lord Jesus for His gift of forgiveness?"
"Oh!" said old Treffy, with tears in his eyes, "I should indeed, sir."
So they all knelt down again, and in a few words the clergyman thanked the dear Lord for His great love and goodness to old Treffy, in giving him pardon for his sin.
And again old Treffy took up the words and added:—
"Thank you, Lord Jesus, very much for the gift; it cost Thee Thy life; oh! I do thank Thee with all my heart."
"Now, Treffy," said the clergyman, as he rose to go, "if Satan comes to you to-morrow and says, 'Old Treffy, do you feel you've got forgiveness? perhaps after all it's a mistake,' what shall you say to him?"
"I think I shall tell him my text," said old Treffy, "'The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.'"
"That will do, Treffy," said the clergyman; "he can't answer that. And remember, the Lord wishes you to know you are forgiven, not to feel you are forgiven. There is a difference between feeling and knowing. You knew you had taken my gift, and you did not know what I meant when I asked you if you felt I had given it to you. It is the same with the Lord's gift, Treffy. Your feelings have nothing to do with your safety, but your faith has a great deal to do with it. Have you taken the Lord at His word? Have you trusted Him? That is the question."
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, "I have."
"Then you know you are forgiven," said the clergyman, with a smile.
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, brightly, "I can trust Him now."
Then Christie walked up to Treffy, and put the bunch of white snowdrops in his hand.
"Miss Mabel gave me them," he said, "and she said I was to say a little prayer whenever I looked at them: 'Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.'"
"Whiter than snow," repeated the clergyman; "whiter than snow; Treffy! that is a sweet word, is it not?"
"Yes," said old Treffy, earnestly, as he looked at the flowers, "whiter than snow, washed white in the blood of Jesus."
Then the clergyman took his leave, but, as he was crossing the court, he heard Christie running after him. He had a few of the lovely snowdrops and a sprig of the dark myrtle in his hand.
"Please, sir," said Christie, "would you like a few of them?"
"Thank you, my boy," said the clergyman, "I should indeed."
He carried the snowdrops carefully home, and they taught him a lesson of faith. The seed he had sown in the mission-room had not been lost. Already two poor sin-stained souls had come to the fountain, and had been washed whiter than snow. The old man and the little boy had taken the Lord at His word, and had found the only way into the bright city, into "Home, sweet Home." God had been very good to him in letting him know this. Surely, he would trust in the future.