The Black Forge Mills

by William P. Chipman

Of course, that night's incidents were talked about. All Afton was busy with them for the next few days. And just here a strange perverseness of human nature cropped out. There was Doctor Gasque, a man who had not been inside of a meeting house for years; who had been an acknowledged skeptic; who on his own confession had been exceedingly self-righteous; and there was his son Harry, wild, dissolute, and dissipated; yet no one doubted their conversion. "It is so wonderful," they said. "I am so glad for Mrs. Gasque." "What Christians they will make!" "What a help to the First Church!" "What influence they will have!"—and a dozen other equally pleased expressions passed from lip to lip. Nor would I for one moment say they were undeserved. But the Branfords! Well, there were Mr. Carleton and Miss Squire, and old Deacon Blake, and Mr. Bacon and others, who believed that their conversion was real, and hailed with delight what they believed to be an indication that the reformation of the Black Forge people was at hand. There were others, however, good church people, too, who shrugged their shoulders when Ray and his sister-in-law were mentioned, and said: "I presume we must receive them into the church, of course; but they'll never be any help to us, and very likely they will have to be disciplined before a great while." Others shook their heads forebodingly, saying: "If I were Mr. Carleton, I should wait awhile before I was so sure that those Branfords were converted: they are a hard set."

Then there were others who shook out the folds of their silks, and said, complacently:

"Really, I don't know what the First Church is coming to. Mr. Grundy and I don't propose to mix with the Black Forge people. We haven't been accustomed to associate with such people, and if the First Church insists on that rabble coming in, we shall take our letters to the Central Church. Dr. Lightfoot is as fine a preacher as Mr. Carleton, and the people there are so much more select."

Don't think, dear reader, I have exaggerated this thing at all. For a good many years I have been a church member, and acquainted with nearly every phase of Christian work; and I assert, without fear of contradiction, that there is in many of our churches a spirit which seeks after those who may be a financial and social help to the church, while the masses are either neglected or looked upon with disfavor. Many Christians still need a special vision and a voice from heaven, saying: "What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common," before they can understand that "God is no respecter of persons."

In the case of Ray Branford, however it may be elsewhere, these things I have written were actually said. It is a veritable history I am writing. Did Ray know of these things? Yes; there are always some in a community who feel called upon to report to those concerned all they hear about them. Did this drive Ray away from the First Church? No; and for two reasons. There were two traits in his character which enabled him to rise above the most exasperating things said about him. First, he felt so exceedingly unworthy of the gift of salvation, and was so amazed at its bestowment upon him, that he did not wonder that others doubted that he had really received it. Then, too, he had in his make-up a bit of that obstinacy which, when he knew what his duty was, led him, like Luther, to do it, though a thousand popes stood in the way. But this combination of traits is exceedingly rare; and what proved to be an incentive to him has deterred many another from doing what was known to be duty.

The actual result from this display of human prejudice was not, however, so disastrous in other respects as might have been anticipated. Satan sometimes overreaches himself, and it proved to be so in this instance. The sudden manifestation of God's grace on that memorable evening did not as suddenly depart. Rather it increased in power. It pervaded the Sunday-school; it entered the homes of the congregation; it even extended to the Black Forge Mission; and before spring came, more than a hundred had confessed Jesus as Saviour and Lord.

Early in the new year, Ray Branford and others appeared before the First Church committee as candidates for admission to the church. That committee was composed of wise and judicious men—men who loved Christ with all their hearts, and were anxious that all who would might come unto him. They felt, as Ray related his experience, that he gave unmistakable evidence of the Spirit's work in his heart; and without the slightest hesitation they recommended him to the church as one worthy of a place in its membership. When this became known, the tongues of the gossips were again set in motion, and rumor soon had it that, at the preparatory service, opposition would be made to his reception. This was enough to fill the main lecture room to overflowing when that evening came.

Ray's relation of his experience was clear, and to the unprejudiced, convincing; but when he had retired, and opportunity was given for remark, a brother rose, and said:

"I do not want it understood, brethren, that I actually object to this lad, or deny that he is a Christian; but he is young, his surroundings are all against him, and I question whether we had not better wait awhile before we receive him. If he is truly a Christian, it won't make any difference; if he is not, it will be a great deal better to wait." Then he sat down.

Mr. Carleton sprang to his feet.