A skilled workman

Introduction

I have read with deepest interest the proof pages of “ A Skilled Workman/’ and if any word of mine can extend its influence or widen its distribution I shall be glad. There is not a dull page in the book as I have read it.

The Christian life is presented as it ever should be, in the most attractive form, and I hardly see how any young man can read the story without having a desire to reproduce the life of the leading character, who was indeed a skilled workman.

George Axtel was simply consistent. He did what he could; he did it with his whole heart; his sincerity was apparent and his whole bearing was that of a true-hearted, loyal follower of Jesus Christ.

Such a life always has power. It is not what we say, but what we are that tells. Any man can write a check, but only the man who has money in the bank can write one with any value.

Given a consistent Christian character, one that in every little thing magnifies the Risen Lord, and the result is power always.

INTRODUCTION.

There is nothing in this book tuat even savors of fanaticism; not a sentiment advanced is impractical. The scenes described may be repeated at any time and in any place.

There is no joy in this world like that which comes as a result of doing the will of God.

I commend the book to young people everywhere.

J. Wilbur Chapman.

Chapter I

On the banks of the Tippecanoe river, not far from where it pours its crystal waters into the Wabash, is a spot which for its beauty can not be surpassed. Had it not been for the curse of sin, an Eden more beautiful could scarcely be desired. The surface of the river looks as if it had been polished with diamonds. Its quietness was not disturbed, save by a fish now and again leaping up out of the water. The flowers were scattered along the banks as if carelessly dropped from heaven. The boughs of the trees are woven above you as if angels had taken the young twigs, when nature first put them forth, and intertwined and interlaced them at their will. The air seemed to be laden with life; the trees and flowers were loaded with beauty; the quiet river, leisurely flowing by, spoke of peace and comfort.

Here in eighteen hundred and ninety-three, in the month of August, seven young men from the city not many miles away, tented together for a fortnight in comfort, recreation, and pleasure. Here they spent their time in communing with nature, in hunting and fishing, and lounging about. Here they were free; the restraints of home, the care of store and office, the noise of street and shop did not bother them. When the time for their return into the city, to again resume their work, had come, they were loth to go. This place, where they had spent so many pleasant hours together, had a peculiar fascination to them; they seemed to be under a spell, which they did not want to have broken.

The time for breaking camp had arrived. The night before they were leisurely lounging upon the bank of the river. The sun was fast sinking out of sight behind the woods back of them. The shadows had lengthened until only the cliffs across the river were tipped by the rays of the sun. The reflection of the trees along the river’s bank, and the scattered clouds flying in the sky, were reflected in the water, revealing a picture never yet surpassed by any artist.

Nature seemed to have been hushed to deepen the parting meditations of the young men as they sadly thought of breaking camp on the morrow. There seemed to be a distressing stillness, as the boys talked of the good time they had. Nothing could be heard but the sound of the still breeze among the trees, the rustle of the corn across the river, the barking of a dog at a distant farmhouse, and the doleful roaring of a train in the distance, speeding its way northward; and their talk, broken every now and then by a merry laugh of some of the fellows as it rang out among the trees and echoed across the river.

There had been a silence; neither of the boys had spoken for a minute: then said George Axtell, “ Well, boys, if we live till next year, why not come back here for the summer ? ”

“ If we live ! ” replied Emmett Windom. u Why, George, you do not expect to die, do you?

“ No, Emmett, but you can’t tell. Life is a very uncertain thing. I am sure no one would be more sorry than I, if we would not all be here; but you can not tell.”

“ Say, boys, George is getting serious,” said Emmett Windom, “ and I would not be surprised if he would be converted before another year.”

“ That would spoil our encampment, wouldn’t it ? ” said Frank Basil.

“ I don’t see why,” replied Bert Moore.

“ Because, if George ever gets converted, he will get converted all over; for whatever he does, he does with his whole heart; and I am afraid if he ever gets converted, he will not rest until he has us converted; and that would spoil the encampment,” replied Frank Basil.

u Well, what about coming back next year for a few weeks,” said Will Long impatiently, as if he were disgusted with the conversation in which they were engaging.

“ Two weeks is not long enough,” said Ralph Hill. “ Why not make it a month ? ”

“ That’s better,” replied the boys in unison.

“ Well, now, it is understood that we will be back here next year; that is, if we live,” said George Axtell, with a twinkle in his eye.

“ We don’t expect you if you are dead,” sarcastically said Emmett Windom.

“ Oh, well, now, quit your fooling, boys, and what about coming back here next year?” asked Ernest Moore.

“ Why, we will be back, of course,” replied several of the boys.

“ That’s settled now, is it ? ” asked Emmett Windom.

“ Yes !” replied all the boys in unison again.

With this decision they arose to retire for the last night in the solitudes of the forest. As they bade each other good-night, George Axtell said: “ Boys, if we want to get back to town to-morrow by noon, we must be up early in the morning.”

“ All right,” replied the boys.

The next morning the boys were up early, and after breakfasting upon what they had left in the camp, they began to take down the tent and make preparations for leaving. The wagons which were to take them back to the city had come, and piling the tent and what they had left rather unceremoniously in the wagons, they were soon on their way to town, where, on Monday, they were to be at work at their respective places, with the exception of Frank Basil, who was preparing to enter college in September.

For days and for weeks the boys when they met on the street and elsewhere would speak of their encampment, but on the eighth of September Frank was to leave for college. On that day when the train left, some of the boys were at the train to bid him good-bye, and as they did so, George Axtell said, “ Frank, don’t forget us, and your engagement next summer.”

“ I am sure I’ll not do that,” replied Frank, as he stepped on the moving train as it was pulling away from the depot, and was soon out of sight.

Chapter II

George Axtell’s mother was a widow. George’s father had left them quite an estate. George’s mother worshipped him almost as an idol. There was nothing too good for George. His mother gave him everything that his heart could wish, and a good deal more than he ought to have had. He soon became to be a “ spoiled boy,” as we say. On account of his money and leisure, he began to associate with a class of young men which soon contaminated him. His mother realized it and did all in her power to keep him away from the bad influences of associates and of the street. She was an earnest, consecrated Christian woman. The early waywardness of George almost crushed her. She had faith in God, and believed that some time George would be saved; for it had been his father’s prayers while he lived, and his assurance before he died, but she could not think of him wandering away from home and becomeing a prodigal, both to her and to God, with all its sad consequences and experiences. To her there came this thought time and again, “ I know he will be converted, but why not now, why not now ? God can save

II my son speedily/ ’ So she began to pray for faith, for his speedy conversion. Day after day, night after night she prayed; but there seemed to have been no concern whatever on the part of George concerning his soul’s welfare. Had it not been for her faith in God, she would have ceased praying; but she faithfully kept on praying, claiming the promises of God.

It was in January. Meetings were going on at the Presbyterian Church. The Lord seemed to be there in power. There came upon the Christians a deep concern for the unsaved. Many were converted. George’s mother had been attending the meetings every night, and became heavily burdened for the salvation of George. On Thursday night the pastor had given a very pointed talk on the wailing cry of David, “ No man cared for my soul.” He asked the parents whether that could be said by their children ? Said he, “ Father, mother, shall any of your children rise up at the judgment day and say, ‘ father and mother cared for my body, but they did not care for my soul. They cared for my temporal interests, but they did not care for my eternal welfare. They gave me a good education, but they cared not for my salvation.’ Oh, parents,” said he, “ shall any of you hear that cry at last from the lips of your own children ? ”

These impressive questions went like swords to the heart of George’s mother. She decided that at the first possible opportunity she would talk to George about his soul. She began to think how she had frankly spoken to George about other things of far less importance than the salvation of his soul, and the neglect of this grave duty haunted her until she could not rest, until she had decided to speak to George about this supreme concern.

Friday night was a cold, stormy night. The wind was fiercely howling about the premises; the snow was drifting upon the streets. George’s mother, on account of her delicate health, dared not risk going out that night. When George heard the wind howling without, and saw the fire glowing on the hearth, he was tempted to remain at home also. He picked up the evening paper and began to read. His mother was impressed that perhaps this was the time to speak to him about the salvation of his soul. She was just about to speak to him concerning this important matter, when she halted and began to doubt. She began to think, “ Perhaps I had better not say anything to him now; I may offend him and drive him farther away than ever. Then I may make him shy so that I never will get an opportunity to speak to him.” She had yielded to the temptation not to speak to him, but something kept saying: “ Why not speak to him ?

Why not do it now ? Will there ever be a better opportunity ? Perhaps this is the only one I ever will have.” She prayed earnestly, that the Lord might open the way for her to speak to him that night concerning his soul’s eternal interest.

George had been reading attentively for some time, and seemed very much interested in what he was reading. His mother had said nothing to him, yet her heart was almost breaking to do so; but it seemed as if her lips were sealed and she could not speak. She noticed that George seemed much interested, and presently she said to him, u What are you reading, George ?”

“ I have been reading a very strange incident,” replied George.

“ What was it, my son ?”

“ A young man had decided to leave his home and go to the city. On his way he was overtaken by an old gentleman in a carriage, who asked him to come up and ride with him. The young man was glad for the opportunity, as it was quite a distance to the city. So he climbed up and thanked the man for his kindness. As they went along the kind old gentleman said to him, ‘ Well, my boy, where are you going?*

“ ‘ I am going to. the city, sir,* replied the boy.

“ ‘ And what are you going to do in the city ?*

“ ‘ I want to become a clerk, sir.*

“ ‘ So ? and what then ?’

“ ‘ Some time I hope to go into business for myself ?’

“ 4 Well, that’s good; but what then ?’

“ 4 Well, I intend to make all the money I can, and lay by for a rainy day. *

“ The gentleman waited a moment and then said with much earnestness, * But what then ?’

“ ‘Then,’ said the young man, ‘I propose to retire and enjoy life.’

“ The old gentleman seemed to get more serious than ever, and in a solemn tone of voice asked again, ‘ But what then ?’

“ ‘ Well,’ replied the young man, ‘ I suppose by that time I must go the way of all flesh. ’

“ Tears were flowing down the old man’s cheeks as he said again, < But what then ?’

u The young man seeing the object of the old man’s queer questions remained silent.

“ i Oh, my boy/ said the kind old gentleman, “ 4 It is appointed for men once to die, and after that the judgment. What then ? What then ?* ”

George looked up and saw that tears were standing in his mother’s eyes. “ What is the matter, mother ?” asked he.

“ Oh, George, that is a very solemn incident to »>

me.

“ Well, I wouldn’t cry over it,” said George.

“ It is not on account of the story that I weep, but it is on your account.”

A SKILLED WORKMAN I 5

“ Why do you weep on my account ? ” asked George, looking at his mother in astonishment.

“ I can not bear to think that ypu are unsaved, and are becoming harder in heart every day. The heaviest burden on my heart is the thought that you are not saved. I would be willing to make any sacrifice if you were only an earnest Christian.”

u Why, mother, what makes you talk like that ? I do not see that you need to be so concerned about me. I do not know that I have done anything so awful. I do not feel that I am such a great sinner.”

“ Oh, if you only felt that you were a great sinner, then I would not worry so; but it is your unconcern and indifference concerning your own salvation that distresses me. If you only felt that you were lost, then I would have some hope of your being saved. But you do not seem to care that you are lost.”

“ Why, mother, what have I done that I should be lost?”

“ You need not do anything to be lost, my son, you are lost already. 4 For he that believeth not on the Son of God is condemned already. 1 And the Bible says, 4 how shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation ? * You have never accepted this salvation, so you must have neglected it. Whether you neglect, or whether you reject, the consequences will be the same.”

“ I can not see it that way, mother.”

“ If you were sick, George, and the doctor would leave you a remedy that would cure you and you simply neglected to take it, would not the consequences be the same as if you refused to take it ? You remember the wreck down at the depot a few years ago, don't you, when so many lives were lost ? It was all on account of the switchman neglecting to close the switch; he did not mean to wreck that train, for he almost lost his mind on account of it, but he simply neglected to close the switch; but the consequences were the same as if he deliberately had thrown that switch and wrecked that train. If you go on as you have been doing, neglecting the salvation of your soul, the consequences will be the same as if you deliberately rejected it. Do you not think so, George ? ”

George remained silent for a moment in deep meditation, and then said, “ Well, mother, there is no doubt but that I ought to become a Christian, but there is no use of your talking to me now.”

“ But, George, do you not expect some time to become a Christian ? ”

“ Why, mother, what a foolish question that is to ask me. Do you think that I am so foolish as never to become a Christian ? ”

“ No, George, I would hate to think that of

1 7 you; but you seem to be very indifferent about the matter, and you are becoming more so every day, and I fear you may trifle too long. How long do you intend to put it off ? ” asked his mother.

“ I do not know,” replied George.

“ That’s the trouble; that’s the danger. Well, say you put it off ten years.”

“ Ten years! ” exclaimed George in astonishment. “ Do you think I am foolish enough to put it off ten years ? ”

“ I hope not, but you seem to be so indifferent that I fear you will.”

“ But I hope I am not quite that indifferent, mother.”

11 Well, then, say you put it off five years.”

“ No! I can not put it off five years.”

“ Well, will you put it off two years? ”

George hesitated as if he might put it off two years. Then he looked up at his mother in surprise and said, “ Why, mother, do you want me to put it off two years ? ”

“ That is for you to decide,” replied his mother.

George looked sad, and then said, “ No, I do not think I ought to risk putting it off two years.”

“ Well, then, say one year.”

George hesitated a moment and then said, “ I suppose if I ever ought to become a Christian, I ought to become one now,”

“ Yes, George,” said his mother with indications of emotion, “ ‘ Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation.’ ” ‘Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for ye know not — ’ ” She could not finish the sentence, but arose quickly and left the room. She went to her own apartments and there poured out her soul to God in prayer, hoping that her feeble words might bring George to a deep concern, and that he might soon be an earnest Christian.

George sat there awhile, astonished, surprised, worried. He could not understand why his mother should speak so abruptly to him about his eternal welfare. He began to think of his godly father’s life, and how he promised him to become a Christian man, which some time he intended to do, but had not thought of doing it soon. He thought how his mother promised his father to bring him up to be a Christian boy' and young man. He felt that his mother had done all that she could do, but that he had not done his part. While he sat there waiting for his mother to return, many serious thoughts went through his mind. But when his mother did not return, he quietly arose, went to her room and hesitatingly opened the door to see whether his mother was asleep. He opened the door but a little ways when he saw his mother on her knees by the side of her bed engaged in earnest prayer.

He quickly closed the door and went to his own room. He could hardly decide whether to retire or not. He was very much troubled; he sat on the edge of the bed for a time meditating. He remembered how his mother taught him to pray in his childhood, but for several years he had not opened his mouth in prayer. He had not named the name of God save in blasphemy. All these things seemed sorely to convict him ; but he had no desire to become a Christian. The thought came to him, why not pray that God might give me this desire. “ I have been grievously wrong, why not pray to God to make me right ?” He knelt down and prayed in a strange way: “ Oh, Lord, I have forgotten thee. I have been very indifferent about my own soul. I have grieved my mother and burdened her heart. I know I ought to be a Christian and fulfill the promise to my father. But, oh, God, my heart is so hard, and I have no desire to be a Christian. If there is anything in religion, help me to become religious. My heart is very rebellious, if thou canst give me a better heart, I wish you would, for my heart is getting harder and harder every day.” He felt that his prayer was a mockery. He thought the Lord did not hear him. He immediately arose and retired. He tried to sleep but could not. It seemed that the Lord, instead of giving him a desire to be religious, was convicting him of sin and making him feel as if he were lost to all eternity. Every trivial word that he had ever spoken, every sinful act that he had ever committed, all the evil thoughts that he had ever thought, seemed to haunt him. He could neither sleep nor rest that night. He arose the next morning, having had very little sleep in the night. He shyly evaded his mother, fearing that she might say something to him. He worried through the day like a criminal going to the gallows, awaiting execution. He said nothing to his mother; his mother said nothing to him. Saturday night he went down town as usual, but he found no comfort or satisfaction; so he came home early and retired. This was a favorable indication to his mother and she prayed that night more earnestly than ever. Tired and worried out, he got some fitful sleep. When he was awake he thought of his miserable self, when he was asleep, he saw visions of despair. He awoke Sunday morning in a fitful, fretful mood. At the breakfast table, his mother said to him:

“ George, you are going to church to-day, are you not ?”

“ I don’t know; I guess so,” he replied in a sort of reproachful way, as if he were saying, “ I would have gone if you would not have asked me, but I don’t know whether I will go now or not.” The devil, however, tempted him and he decided not to go. But that day was the most miserable he had yet spent. It seemed to him as if he were standing on the brink of hell. Like many others, he had to have a glimpse of hell before he had any desire to go to heaven. Toward evening George said to himself: “ I am going to church to-night, and if God will help me I will give my heart to the Lord. I declare,” said he, “ I can’t stand this any longer, and if there is such a thing as getting right with God, I am going to get right with him.” At the supper table he said to his mother, “ I am going to church with you to-night.”

His mother’s face lit up with an expression of joy, which George knew came from the depth of her heart, as she said, “ You can not imagine how glad I am that you are.”

When the time for services came he was ready to go with his mother to the meeting. There seemed to be a strange atmosphere in the meeting, different from what was in the church when George was last there. The Lord by his Spirit was there in power. The fire of the Holy Ghost was there and had warmed things up. An irresistible power seemed to have hold of George from the very beginning of the meeting. During the meeting he was swept nearer and nearer to the cross, where he would find rest for his troubled soul. The Lord at last was answering his prayer. When the invitation was given for those to stand who desired to become Christians, George, in a manly way, was the first one to stand. His mother was overcome with joy. It was like an electric shock to the audience. No one was expecting George Axtell to become a Christian very soon. Had a cannon been fired off in the audience the surprise could not have been much greater. Others arose and expressed the same desire. In a small room downstairs, where the pastor had invited all those who were earnestly seeking the salvation of their souls, George Axtell, with a number of others, gave his heart to the Lord, and dedicated his life to the Master. He did it faithfully, definitely, prayerfully, and he knew what he had done. He put the matter of his salvation into the hands of the Lord and he left it there. He appreciated the great gift of salvation, which the Lord had led him to accept. He went home that night and decided, by the help of the Master, to consecrate his life to the winning of other souls to Jesus Christ. He was too honest to know that he was saved and then not care that another is lost. He could not be on the way to heaven and not care that another was on the way to hell. He was determined that if salvation was anything to him that he would make it something to some one else. He was going to dedicate his life in humble service to the Lord, out of love for what the Lord had done for him.

Chapter III

Almost a year had passed since the seven young men broke camp on the banks of the Tippecanoe. They were eagerly looking forward to the time when they would again pitch their tent at the same place for another season of recreation and pleasure. They were anxiously awaiting the time when Frank Basil would return from school, so that they might plan for the summer’s outing. On the 27th of June he was to return. When the time arrived, Emmett Windom, Will Long, and Bert Moore went to the depot to meet him.

“ We are very glad to see you,” said Emmett Windom, after the boys had greeted him.

“ I am very glad to be here,” replied Frank, u and I am sure I will enjoy my vacation. I have been looking forward to the encampment with great anticipations.”

“ So have we,” said Will Long, “ and we have been gradually preparing for it as best we could. All the old fellows will be with us again. But say ! Do you know that George Axtell has been converted ?”

“ Converted !” exclaimed Frank Basil. “ Oh,

*4 surely, that can’t be. Well, I am sure if he is converted, he is converted thoroughly, for he never went into anything half-hearted.”

“ You would think so if you heard him talk,” said Bert Moore. u He is almost a preacher. He has become very active in church work, and in the Young Men’s Christian Association. You ought to hear him talk in meetings; the boys like to hear him, and he seems to have marvelous power in converting the fellows.”

“ I would like to see him try his hand on me, wittingly,” said Frank Basil. “ I hope he will not try and convert all of us and spoil the encampment for us.”

“ Well, you may just rest right there that he will,” reproachfully replied Emmett Windom. “ We will have a prayer meeting all the time.”

“ Oh, well,” said Will Long, “ who cares for that ? His pious talk will not hurt me any. It won’t do to leave George at home.”

•“ Oh, no !” replied Emmett. “ He can be our chaplain.”

They had been walking along from the depot, up town, and as they passed the door of the store where George was clerking, he was waiting at the front to greet Frank. As they came near, he said, with his face beaming, “ Hello, Frank! I am glad to see you.”