The Black Forge Mills

by William P. Chipman

RAY'S CONFESSION OF CHRIST.

The First Church bell tolled loudly for the six o'clock prayer and praise service the next Sunday evening. As the last stroke sounded Mr. Carleton came rapidly in, and took his place at the desk in the main lecture room, looking down with cheerful face at the large congregation before him. How full the room was! Not only the usual attendants, but such a number of unaccustomed ones were there. In the very first seat at the right of the centre aisle sat Ray Branford, and beside him his sister-in-law. In the very first seat on the left was Dr. Gasque and his wife. Back near the door was young Harry Gasque, the dissipated son of the doctor, with quite a crowd of his immediate associates. Then scattered here and there were many of the young people from the Black Forge Mills. Mr. Carleton's heart rejoiced to see them all, and he said to himself, "The cold ice of indifference which has so long surrounded us is surely yielding; now may it melt entirely away under the warm influence of God's love."

He had a way of conducting that hour of service that was peculiarly his own. From the moment he entered the desk he never sat down, but with song book in hand, and Bible in easy reach, he stood marshaling his people throughout the service as a general might marshal his forces. "We will sing 'The light of the World is Jesus,'" he said; and the organist struck the first notes. Then the room rang with a chorus of voices. When three verses of that hymn had been sung, he announced another familiar one, and then another, until fifteen minutes had been spent in singing the praise of God. Scarcely had the last note of the last hymn ended, when a short prayer followed, direct, simple, as though it were conversation with one close at hand, and ready to grant every request. A short Scripture lesson was then impressively read, and another hymn sung. Twenty minutes of the hour was now used. "Now let us have a few brief prayers," he suggested; "who will be the first to lead our thoughts upward to the throne?" One after another the brethren knelt, until twelve short fervent supplications had been offered, amid a stillness which was almost oppressive. Then another hymn was sung, and the pastor announced: "We now have twenty minutes for testimony. Who will be the first to speak of God's love?"

Ray Branford, to the amazement of all, was the first to speak. "I want to tell you to-night," he said, "that I love Jesus. He has forgiven me my sins, and I have consecrated my life to him. Will you pray that in all my discouraging surroundings I may never once dishonor his name?"

The hushed silence that followed was broken by the voice of Dr. Gasque. Stepping to the front of the desk, he turned around and faced the congregation, saying: "My friends, you all know me. You know how for years I have lived among you an ungodly and self-righteous man. I had a Christian father and mother, and for years they prayed for their only son, but he was unsaved. God gave me a dear Christian wife, and I saw before me daily the proofs of Christ's redeeming and sanctifying power; but I still closed my eyes to the truth, and refused to believe. But last Friday evening that boy," pointing to Ray Branford, "asked me a question that broke through the armor of my unbelief and pierced me to the heart. He, as some of you may know, came up to the town after me for a sick neighbor. Not finding me at home, he dropped into your prayer meeting here to pass away the hour until I came. Here words were spoken which God used to touch his heart. He came out from this house stirred to his very soul and got into my buggy, and together we rode toward the Forge.

"'Dr. Gasque, what is it to be a Christian?' he suddenly asked me. I saw he was thoroughly in earnest, and I dared not counsel him wrongly. 'Suppose it was your own boy asking that question?' rang in my ears. I was compelled to be honest, and replied, 'I do not know.'

"His next question staggered me, it was so unexpected. 'If there is anything in Christianity at all,' he asked, 'ought not a man who is constantly with those who are passing into eternity to know something about it himself that he might tell others?' I saw myself and my responsibility to God as never before, and for a time I knew not what to answer. At length I said, condemning myself thereby, 'I suppose he ought.' But the boy had another question ready. 'How would you settle such a question?' he inquired. I thought of my old father's words, and replied: 'I would go directly to Jesus.' Then we parted, but as I bent over the sick man I had been called to see, and realized that no human power could save him, the boy's question came back to me with renewed force. I drove home, but it never left me. I entered my room, but it was with me still. I saw I was a sinner, hopelessly lost without the mercy of Christ. I awoke my wife. I asked her to pray for me, and kneeling there by her side I found peace. I, too, confess here to-night, that I love Christ, and have consecrated my life to him. Pray for me."

Those who have witnessed similar scenes will readily understand the spirit of that meeting for the rest of the hour. Mrs. Casque arose and repeated the divine words: "It shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Then another and another followed until the tolling bell indicated that it was time for the evening preaching service.

"I cannot help feeling that there may be some one here to-night," said Mr. Carleton, in closing, "who may desire Jesus for their friend. If so, will you rise upon your feet." Immediately Ray Branford's sister-in-law arose, saying, briefly: "I want to be a Christian." Was that all? No; away back near the door a young man arose, and in a clear ringing voice, he said: "To-night I believe in a Saviour; to-night for the first time in my life I desire to be a Christian. I have been wild and dissolute and wicked. Is there hope for such a one as I am?" It was Harry Gasque, and the appealing look upon his face touched all who beheld it.

Then Mr. Carleton took those two convicted souls to the mercy seat. Tenderly, lovingly he presented their cases, and asked that for Jesus' sake they might now be forgiven. What if the church bell was tolling for the next service: these two sin-convicted souls hung in the balance, and until they found life he must wrestle with God. Finally they arose from their knees, and the congregation was dismissed, but the son could lay his hand in that of his father and confidently affirm, "Your Saviour is my Saviour too," while the longing, wistful look had left the tear-stained face of the penitent woman, and in its place there had come one of perfect peace.