"My poor fellow, I have told him nothing. God forbid that I should tell any one of the sin which you have confessed to me. Come in, Bob."
"I am so bad and so dirty."
"Your clothes are dirty, Bob," replied Mr. Thorn, glancing at Bob's soiled and shabby garments. "I wonder that you go on wearing them. They are too dirty to be washed."
"Too dirty to be washed, sir!" exclaimed Bob in amazement. "I have no others to change with, or my gal would very soon have them in the wash-tub."
"Very true, Bob. You have no clothes to change with, but if I gave you a clean coat, you would soon put it on, aye?"
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Thorn."
"Then, if you by faith come to Christ, in your filthy rags, just as you are, He will wash you in the fountain of His blood, and will cover you with the robe of His righteousness."
And Bob came. He felt his guilt and misery, and like a little child he asked for mercy. Need we say he found it? We do not pretend to fix the exact day and hour of his conversion, but this we know—the once dishonest man is now, and has been for years, a man of the strictest probity; the blasphemer now worships the Saviour whom once he despised; and among that little band of Christians in L——, there is none more devoted to his Master's service, none more loving and gentle to wife and children, and to all within the sphere of his influence, than Bob.
"And under God, I owe it all to Mr. Thorn," he would say. "Had he, a professing Christian, sent me to prison then, could I have believed what he said of God's mercy? Mr. Thorn was to me the living witness of God's mercy in Christ."
"For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you."