The Black Forge Mills

by William P. Chipman

When the hour came for the service, however, all but the father got ready to accompany Ray. "No, I shan't go," he said gruffly to Betsy's inquiring as to his going; "but you may. I'll take care of the children."

It was but a short distance to the chapel, and on their arrival they found quite a number already gathered. Others kept coming, and soon the room was quite full. It had been the custom for Mr. Carleton, or some brother from the home church, to come down to the Forge and take charge of this Wednesday evening service. But the hour arrived for the meeting, and passed, and no one came. There had evidently been some misunderstanding about the leader, or else he had been unexpectedly detained. Fifteen minutes after the usual hour, Mr. Jacob Woodhull, who was present, came from his seat, to where Ray was sitting. He talked a few minutes with him, and then Ray arose and went quietly forward to the desk. He began the service, and proceeded along in the usual order without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment. His Scripture lesson was the tenth chapter of Romans, and his brief remarks were based upon the very first verse: "Brethren, my heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved." He spoke first of Paul's great anxiety for his own countrymen—that they might be saved. "He desired it. It was the longing of his heart. The desire because a prayer. He could contain himself no longer. The burden had become too great. He now cried unto God. He did more. Wherever he went we find he first preached that gospel to his unbelieving brethren. He saw to it that they heard the message of salvation, and had the opportunity to accept it if they would."

"Making an application of this truth to myself," he said, "I, as a Christian, ought to desire and pray for the salvation of all of you here at the Forge whom I have been accustomed to associate with; and I do and have. If you only knew how great my anxiety is, how earnestly I have asked God for this very thing, I do believe some of you would come."

As he went on, an earnestness took possession of him which held the fixed attention of that people who knew him so well.

It was a plain, simple talk, but it had a marked effect upon his hearers. From the human side, the very fact that Ray was one of their number led them to listen to him with unusual interest. There was not a single one in that audience who did not know Ray's past life, and not a single one that for a moment doubted the change in him; and when he told, in his quiet, earnest way, what had wrought the change, they gave him their respectful attention. From the divine side, God was working in and through that boy. He spake as "moved of the Holy Ghost." The Spirit taking the circumstances, the place, the hearers, and the instrument under his control, moved on with a quiet but irresistible power to the accomplishment of his work. And when, at the close of a half hour of testimony and prayer, Ray asked: "Isn't there some one here to-night who wants Jesus for his Saviour?" the fruit of the Spirit began to appear.

From one of the forward seats a great, burly, rough man slowly arose, and electrified those present by the emphatic declaration: "I'm tired of sin. I want to believe in my mother's God." He was known as "Sailor Jack," and his history was a strange one. At the age of seventeen he had run away from a Christian home, and had shipped on board a South Sea whaler. Forty years passed away. The Christian father had gone to his reward. The Christian mother still lived; and, at the ripe age of ninety-four, she awaited her summons home. "I shall not go," she said, again and again, "until Jack comes home. I shall see him once again ere I die, and he will meet me in heaven. God has heard my prayers, and I have the assurance of the answer in God's own time." Finally there came a sickness to the old saint, that the friends gathered about her knew was unto death; but her faith faltered not at all. One evening, as she sat bolstered up in bed, she suddenly seemed to be listening, and then exclaimed: "There is Jack's step. He is at the door. I knew I should see him before I went home." Those about her thought she wandered in mind; but to comfort her, they went and opened the outer door. A large, burly man who stood hesitatingly upon the steps now entered, saying: "They tell me mother is still alive. May I see her?" Jack had come.

The mother never knew, in this world, the story of that son's wanderings, or the desperate wickedness of his life. She lived only long enough to assure herself that it was her own son Jack, to speak to him of God's promise, and her expectation of meeting him beyond; and then she went on to the heavenly mansion prepared for her. But others soon heard that wayward son's story, and had proof of his evil life and heart. He had sailed on nearly every sea; he had been guilty of nearly every crime. Three months before he had been in the diamond fields of South Africa, and one day had the good fortune to find a number of gems, of a size and quality that at once lifted him from the most abject poverty to comparative wealth. That night, as he lay in his rude tent, his thoughts, for the first time in years, wandered back to the home of his boyhood. As he told of it in after years, a voice seemed to suddenly say unto him, "Go home! Go home!" The next morning he left for the nearest seaport, took the first ship that sailed for England, and from there sailed for his native land, arriving home in time to see his mother die.

Since her death he had gone on in his bold, wicked life, utterly regardless of man or God. Even among the hard characters at Black Forge he was regarded as a hopeless case. When now he arose in that little meeting, and declared he wanted to believe in his mother's God, there was a hushed stillness not unlike that when the Spirit brooded over the darkness and void at the beginning, and out of which he was soon to call forth light and life. This stillness was broken by Jacob Woodhull dropping suddenly down upon his knees, and with deep emotion asking the Saviour to hear and answer this penitent man's request. They had been playmates together—he and this wicked man; they had sat on the same bench at school. Mr. Woodhull knew of the mother's faith and the mother's prayers for this son. He asked that the hour when that mother's prayers were to be answered might be at hand, and that the mother's mantle might now fall upon the son, making him a living witness of Christ's power to save even the vilest sinner that would come unto him. A number of others, at the close of this prayer, arose and declared their determination to go unto Jesus, who alone had "the words of eternal life," and among the number was Ray's oldest sister.

The next morning Ray and this sister attended the Thanksgiving service at the First Church, and as they started for home at the close of the meeting, Mr. Carleton joined them, and walked a ways with them.

"I owe you an apology, Ray," he said, "for throwing the meeting last night on your hands. By some strange inadvertence I forgot that I had not provided a leader for it, but it was well. God knew where the one to lead that service was, and I have already learned of the wonderful power he there displayed. This is the sister, I believe, who desired to find Christ. May I ask if she is at peace?"