An Englishman told me a story once which may serve to illustrate how God forgives. There was a boy a good many years ago, stolen in London, the same as Charley Ross was stolen here.
Long months and years passed away, and the mother prayed and prayed as that mother of Charley Boss has prayed, I suppose, and all her efforts had failed, and they had given up all hope; but the mother did not quite give up all her hope. One day a boy was sent up into the neighboring house to sweep the chimney, and by some mistake he got down through the wrong chimney. He came down through the sitting room chimney of that house. His memory began at once to travel back through the years that had passed. He thought that things looked strangely familiar.
The scenes of his early childhood were dawning upon him; and as he stood there surveying the place, his mother came into the room. He stood there covered with rags and soot. Did she wait till she had sent him to be washed before she took him in her arms? No, indeed; it was her own boy. She took him to her arms, all black and smoke, and hugged him to her bosom, and shed tears of grateful joy upon his head. Such is God’s love for the sinner, He will forgive, and receive him to Himself.
