The closing night arrived. The Opera House was crowded, and from the opening words, "Our Father," until the "And now I commend you to God," every one present seemed to feel that this was no ordinary religious gathering. An opportunity was given for a word from new converts. Tenderly, prayerfully, these were urged to in some way publicly confess their new-found Lord. There was a hush as Jack stood erect. In a low, clear voice he addressed himself particularly to the half-hundred young men at the back. "I do not need to tell you what I was. Two weeks ago it would have been inconceivable to you and to me that the change I have experienced could take place. There is only One who could do it, and He has done it. I cannot say more now, but if you want to know all about it, come to me at the close of this service, or come to my home."
The eyes of the wife at his side were red again, but the tears were tears of joy. "It is very wonderful: we are all so happy. Oh, how glad I am that these services have been held," were her farewell words.
Jack's hand was the last one the missioner clasped. "Jack, you will be God's man. I go, but He remains. This change is all His doing, and He will hold you fast if you only trust Him. Many a day I'll pray for you, Jack. Remember that your feelings may change, but your purposes must endure. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Mr. Williams; God helping me I won't fail. It'll be no easy business, but I'm not in the fight alone; God's in it too. Good-bye."
And the years that have passed since these words were spoken have shown clearly enough that Jack is not fighting alone. Once again prayerful hearts are returning thanks for the touch that "has still its ancient power."
"IF A MAN BE OVERTAKEN"
George fell—all the people knew that was what would happen. When he told in the church that he was going, with God's help, to be a Christian and "act the square," there was only one at the close of the meeting to say an encouraging word to him; the rest left him alone. On the whole, they did not believe in "results" from Special Services, and, despite the Pastor's frequent appeals for their unprejudiced and whole-hearted support, none were enthusiastic over the effort being put forth, and many were antagonistic. In the opinion of the majority the regular, "well-ordered" Sabbath services gave ample opportunity for those who wanted to lead different lives, and so far as reaching the outsiders was concerned, the endeavour to invite personally the non-churchgoers was quite unnecessary—all such knew they were welcome, because the fact had been on the announcement board outside the church for over ten years.
The missioner was told on all sides what a notoriously untrustworthy man George was: "You see, we know his past, and you have been here only two weeks, or you'd know better than to put any faith in what he did and said last night. It was just a passing emotion, and it won't mean anything." So George fulfilled their expectations when he returned from the city uproariously drunk one night three weeks after the mission closed.
The morning following the outbreak the minister's wife made a special trip down street. The door of the carpenter's shop was fortunately open, and George was leaning against his bench looking, as he felt, far from happy. Pleasantly the little woman greeted him, and passed on. Then, with an exquisite piece of deception, she appeared to have a sudden after-thought, and turning quickly, she said, "Oh, George, the doors in the pantry cupboard are so swollen that I cannot close them. Could you fix them for me?"