“You are a lawyer, and in the habit of receiving testimony, cross-questioning a witness. If you had a case in court concerning which I knew facts which would be to your advantage, would you be willing to accept me as a witness?”
“I should, most certainly,” he said.
“You would believe what I would tell you as a matter of personal testimony?”
“Most assuredly.”
A VIEW OF THE FARALLONE ISLANDS.
CALIFORNIA SCENERY, No. 2.—“The Farallones” are a group of seven rocky islands, 30 miles west of Golden Gate, considered the western border to San Francisco Bay. They were called St. James Islands by Sir Francis Drake, in 1578. They abound in seals and sea-fowl. At one time the Russians had a fishing station on the islands, and in one year took there 80,000 sealskins. A government lighthouse is now maintained on the islands, as will be seen by our illustration.
“Very well. I will tell you only what I know, as a witness should. Here is my Bible,” and I reached it out toward him. “Put me under oath just as you would if I were in court.”
He drew back a little and said hastily: “No, no; I will not do that. I would accept your testimony in court without an oath—I certainly will here.”
“Very well; then the point of testimony which I have to bring to you first of all is this: I know that there is a God, a being who is my Father. I am acquainted with Him. He has taken care of me all my life, and made Himself known to me, so that He has left no room for me to doubt.”
“But,” he began hastily, “that is the very point”—I interrupted him.
“But please remember that I am the witness. I am not telling you hearsay; I am simply stating what I know. Do you think it is fair to interrupt me in the course of my testimony until I transgress the law of testimony? Because you do not know that there is a God, is that any evidence that there is no God? May it not be possible that I may be acquainted with some one whom you do not know? If I should come to you and say that in my recent trip to Philadelphia I had met a man who knew of you, and had sent you a message by me, what would you do?”
“I should wait for the message.”
“Yes, you would not consider it honorable even if you had never heard of him before to say, ‘I do not believe there is any such person who has sent a message to me.’”
“No, no. I am ashamed of myself. I apologize,” he said. “The fact that I do not know that there is a God is no proof that He does not exist. I will never be guilty of such an indecorous act again.”
“Then I can proceed with my testimony. I not only know that there is a God, but I know now that He has sent a message by me to you. I did not know that until now, but now I do know it. It is His wish and purpose to make you acquainted with Him. He has not, however, made it possible for me to introduce you. He has reserved that right for Himself, because you are just as truly His son as I am His daughter; and His love to you, His regard and interest in everything which concerns you, is just the same as His love and interest toward me; and He intends to come into personal contact with every one of His children, yourself included. There is just one way by which He makes Himself known, and He must have your consent to become acquainted with Him.”
“But,” said my friend, “I know what you are going to ask me to do. You are going to ask me to pray; and I can not pray. I would not be heard by your God if I did, according to the statements of your own Bible which you hold in your hand; for that Book says that if we come to God we must believe that He is, and that He is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him; and I believe neither—so I am completely shut out by the only terms upon which your God proposes to make Himself known to any one. The starting-point is a faith which I can not have.”
“No, you are entirely mistaken. The starting-point is not faith. There must be faith before you can please Him or be used by Him but He knew there would be men just like you, and provided for you as for every other one of His children. The starting-point is yet lower down—just where the man out of whom all faith in God seems to have been entirely destroyed, can reach it.”
I then opened my Bible to the eighth chapter of 2 Corinthians, and read the twelfth verse: “If there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath and not according to that he hath not.” “This is the starting-point: the only thing required is willingness to be taught, an honest, willing heart.”
“Is that in the Bible?” he asked.
I placed it in his hands, opened at the passage read. He fixed his gaze intently upon it for a moment; he turned the pages, closed the Book, and looked it all over, and then, returning it with a smile, he said:—
“I have wondered before if your Bible was not a little different from the ordinary copy; but, seriously, even on those terms I find no ground for faith.”
“There is just one thing to be settled,” I said, “are you an honest man? I wish that I could for one instant get down inside your thought, and know whether you are an honest man.”
He gave me a quick glance, then suddenly dropped himself against the arm of the rustic seat in which he was sitting, and closed his eyes. His face became deadly pale. The power of the Spirit of God had come upon us and shut us in in a manner such as I had never before realized in my life. Once or twice he opened his eyes and glanced at me; but for a long time he remained in the same position, with the intensity of his thought traced in changing lines on his white face.
At last he raised himself a little, and, looking at me, frankly said, “I believe I am an honest man.”
“You are the one to know,” I replied, “and if you are, God is not impossible to your consciousness. But the manner of His revelations must be a secret between you and Him. I shall not attempt to help you to that knowledge. It would be foolish in me. But I ask you if, during the next few days, while you remain at this assembly, you will not seek God. Go to Him the last thing at night and ask Him to reveal Himself to you on your knees alone, open your heart and mind to the knowledge of Him. Meanwhile, I will myself pray to my Father and your Father, that He will grant this petition.”
“That will be to pray. How can I pray? What words can one use who does not believe in God? How can one speak out into nothing, to nothing, for nothing?”
“But,” I said, “what of my testimony? Does it really not mean anything to you that I told you that I know there is a God? If you10would believe me in a court-room, you must believe me now. Have I not a right to ask that you will believe my testimony as well as hear it? You said that you receive me as a witness, and that you would believe me, even if I were not sworn. I have not given you a common report. I have told you what I know. I have told you that I do know. Are you in the habit of repudiating the testimony of an accepted witness like that?”
After a few moments of painful silence, he said: “You are right; I can not impeach your testimony. It ought to be a basis of some sort of belief, and I do at least believe in the sincerity of your belief, whether it be correct or not.”
“But am I in your opinion a dupe, made to believe dreams and visions that will not stand the test of investigation, and then left to declare that they are real? Remember, I am not asking you to take my words as evidence, but only referring you to the Source of knowledge. I have asked you to allow God to prove Himself to you.”
“I ought to be willing to do that,” he answered.
“Yes, if you are an honest man, you ought to be willing to do that much.”
Again with closed eyes, his face set and pale with the intensity of his feelings, he sat a long time silent. I prayed; and the Spirit of God drew yet nearer and shut us in more closely with Himself. I shared the conflict that was going on in that proud, strong man’s soul, and I must leave you to imagine the effect when at last he lifted his eyes and said with an intense earnestness, “I will do it.”
I felt the tears rushing to my eyes. I did not wish him to see them, so without a word I arose hastily and went to my own cottage, and upon my knees laid the case before God. While on my knees I was suddenly confronted with this question, What if he should do as you have asked him and fail? Have you not made a very bold proposition to him? I was appalled for a moment at the possibility thus presented; but as the assurance which I had given was fully warranted by the Word of God, I knew that it could not fail; that if the man brought a truly honest heart to the investigation, he would be answered by evidence which he could not withstand; that if he did not bring an honest heart, God would vindicate Himself and His servant.
Before dismissing the matter for my regular work, I went to “headquarters” and laid it before those who would have as deep an interest in it as I could, and would surely join in the prayer for the answer of God to this soul; and from that time there was a constant breathing of prayer about him as he moved among his fellow-workers. MRS. S. M. I. HENRY.
