A photograph, forty years old, of a class of young men and boys, with their teacher! What memories it recalls! It was a Bible Class, and there were fourteen in it. Eleven lived in Christian homes, and the other three had a Christian master. So they all had the great advantage of being every day with those whose prayer and aim was that they should be Christians too.
You may like to know how it has fared with them during the forty years that have passed since that photo was taken.
Well, some made a profession of faith in Christ which turned out to be unreal; but three made good their confession of the Name of Jesus, grew in grace and in knowledge, and today are witnessing for Him by a decided Christian life.
One of the others, too, today is not afraid to preach Christ; nay, rather, is not able to help telling of His love. And with good reason! For when he got too big for that Bible Class, he wandered and fell: but for the Good Shepherd’s pursuit he had been lost beyond all remedy. You shall hear his story later.
His brother also was lost sight of for a time, but returned some years before he died. He never made a decided stand for Christ, but seemed much like “Mr. Fearing,” in “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Two others were of the wavering kind also, sometimes turning aside, but always returning. They, too, have died.
This disposes of half of them; what of the other seven lads? Alas, not one has ever become a Christian, as far as I know! Two of them have died without giving any reason for a hope that they had trusted the Lord Jesus as their Saviour. Strange that Bible Class boys, having Christian homes, or under good influences in other ways, should become, one, a runaway from home; another, a robber of his master, and imprisoned; and yet another sunk to the gutter through drink and sin, ruined in mind and body! Such was the record of some of the remaining seven, but the veil can be drawn aside no further. T.D.
Let us now hear
W. C— k’s Story (Nearly in his own words.)
As far as I can recollect, going to Sunday School never made the slightest impression on me. I am not conscious of a single thing I heard or experienced there that remained with me. Though favored with a Christian father and mother, I turned out a real prodigal; tramping the country, sleeping under hayricks and straw-stacks, and in the lowest lodging houses. Thieving, lying, swearing, cheating, gambling these occupied me; the sporting papers were my only mental food; I would sit up in bed, pipe in mouth reading them. I have been forgiven much. Tears flow as I write! I married with not a stool to sit on, but I was not an infidel, for I never doubted it was true that Jesus Christ had lived, and died, and was buried, and rose again. So should I have been today, believing as the devils believe, but the Lord stopped me in my mad career when I was 27 years of age. I lost the sight of one eye through a burn, and was reduced to abject poverty. A little from “the parish” was all we had to live on, and I became sad at heart and weary of life. In this state I went to bed one night, it was the night the good Shepherd found His wandering sheep, the last sad night I have ever I’m?! Not a spark of love had I towards Him, but in love to my soul He gave me in that night a sight of the last great Assize. The two classes were in view, the saved and the lost. He would not leave me till I made my choice which of those two classes I was going to be in. At length, horror stricken at the thought of being among the lost, and to escape that awful doom, I cried for mercy. When I cried, He heard, and answered, and delivered me. My wife shrieked out, “Our W— has gone mad!” but I said, “I have been mad all my life, and I have just come to my senses.” Yes, by my want and blindness He humbled me: He brought me out of darkness into His marvelous light!
What brought Joseph’s brethren to acknowledge Him? Was it love? No, it was famine. What brought the prodigal to his father? Love? No, famine. What brought me to the Saviour? My love? No, it was dire necessity. But what a Saviour! He first loved us, and because of this, we love Him. I do not remember the date, but I know the place. When I pass it, I say to myself, “That’s the place where my Saviour found me, and made me His own. That’s where the burden of my heart rolled away!” Truly I came to Jesus as I was, Weary and worn and sad; I found in Him a resting place, And He has made me glad! Someone may wonder what more could be desired if I always believed the Bible was true? Well, it says in John’s gospel (1:12) “But as many as received Him to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His Name.”
Not believe about Him. That will never save anyone, for I believed about Him all my life, but was lost, and would have been lost forever. But the moment I received Him, He revolutionized me, and filled me with joy and praise, and thanksgiving. He gave me peace, that peace which He made by the blood of His cross. From that day till now I have been saying, “We love Him because He first loved us.” And so I have a joy in Christ that no unfavorable circumstances can dim. Though often tried, and almost fainting by the way, I always recover after shutting myself up in the bedroom to pray, and read His word, enjoying His presence, and growing in grace, and in the knowledge of Him.
I cannot understand how anyone can be full of doubts, and merely hoping that they will find themselves in heaven at last. Since that never-to-be-forgotten moment when He found me, I have never doubted that I am His, and He is mine. When God speaks, even though He promise what we may think impossible, why stagger through unbelief? Faith believes Him every time; when He declares His love in word and deed, “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life”; when He says, “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life”; and afterward when He utters all those 32,000 promises that I have heard the Scripture contains.