The Story of a Race Track Gambler Brought to Christ

1900

Notable Conversions

In a little mission in San Jose, California, a number of earnest Christian workers were holding an enthusiastic meeting, when in strolled a young man twenty-three years of age, uncultured, somewhat ignorant, but well versed in the art of horse training. William Mullen had lived many years with the associates of the race track and had adopted all their habits, and had also received the root of all evil, the desire for money. While he sat listening to many give their experience and tell how God had redeemed them, and others telling how God had kept them and prevented them from a life of shame, in the midst of the testimonial meeting the young man stood up, saying, "You people testify for Jesus Christ, I want to give testimony for the devil — I have served him all my life." What they thought of this is not known save to themselves. But he did not care, for he continued on saying; "I am bad, I have tried to be good, but I can't be good, there is no good in me. You say that Jesus Christ will save me, unless he does I will never be good. For every time I have tried to be good I have failed and I can't be good, but I am going to be good if God will make me good, and I am not going to leave this building until Christ does save me."

He sat down, and at the close of the meeting an old lady invited him to the front to kneel, and while waiting on God for some miraculous power to work upon him, the good old lady by his side kept saying, "Brother are you saved; do you feel you are saved?" Little did she think that she was acting in the person of Satan tempting the young man, for he desired not any such talk. It was an opportunity he wanted to be with the stranger whom he had met, God himself. He wanted God to reveal the light and he desired to be but alone. Getting up he testified that he believed that God would save him, but he was not quite sure.

He knew little of the Scripture, excepting a few passages that were taught him by a gentleman in Washington, D.C., many years ago, when he was an orphan boy with nowhere to go, sleeping under hay stacks, back of boilers, in coal sheds or other places that the boys of the street provided for him. Yet, a few of those verses had sunk deep into his heart. He remembered the kindly words and he remembered the good Sunday School teacher Mr. Clayton, who told him that some day Jesus Christ would save him and make a man of him. Mr. Clayton had met him on 14th Street in Washington, and stopped him, saying, "Little boy, what Sunday School do you go to?" for Mr. Clayton thought he was a good subject for the Sunday School. He looked up into Mr. Clayton's face, and said:

"I dinna gan' to Sunday School."

"Won't you come to my Sunday School?" said Mr. Clayton.

"Naw, I dinna' want to gan' to your Sunday School."

Mr. Clayton coaxed, but his coaxing apparently was all in vain. Finally, looking at the boy he said: "Do you want to go to jail?" Tears now came to the boy's eyes and he looked up into his face and said, "Mister, if you winnit put me in jail, gan' to your Sunday School," thinking that the Sunday School might not be quite as bad as a jail, for he remembered in his early childhood days the big stone wall that surrounded the institution of charity in which he was imprisoned for no greater crime than being an orphan.

And so the next Sunday at the door of old Mt. Zion Sunday School in Washington, D.C., there came a rap. A gentleman invited the stranger who was knocking inside of the church or Sunday School: "Won't you come in little boy?"

"Naw, but if you will, please tell Mr. Clayton I'd oot here."

The gentleman smiled, walked inside and called for the Sunday School teacher, Mr. Clayton, telling him there was a boy at the door.

The good teacher asked the whole Sunday School to promise, and got their promise, that they would not laugh at the strange little boy that was coming in. As Mr. Clayton went to the door he kindly took him by the hand. He looked upon the new scholar dressed up in a coat many times too large for him, covered with ham fat, a large man's pair of pants with the waist pinned around to one side, (possibly it was a horse shoe nail that acted for a button, as such was used commonly by him), but he had his hair combed at least, and it was so uncommon that the good Sunday School teacher who had noticed him many times made a note of the fact as he brought the boy down the aisle, to the sound of the clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter of the shoes that were too large for him.

The Sunday School scholars were compelled to put their handkerchiefs in their mouths to keep from laughing.

The good teacher, who had learned to act in the name of Jesus his Master,. went further than this, and at the close of the Sunday School he said, "William, you must come home with me now and have dinner; Mrs. Clayton wants you to come." All things were prepared for him on that table where he sat down to a nice white table cloth, silver knives and forks, plenty of dishes and good things heaped up purposely for him. It was the first time in his life that he was a guest, and a guest in the name of Jesus Christ.

Many years went by and as some one would say to him while carousing, "All Christians are hypocrites," tears would come to his eyes and he would say, "No, boys, I know better than that, there is one man on earth who is a Christian," and off would go his coat ready to fight as he would repeat, "I know that there was nothing on earth that would cause a man to take me in when I was a boy like Mr. Clayton did, if he was not a Christian." And so a tender spot was gained in his heart, and when the time came that God pressed him and showed him his utter inability to lead a good life without him, he accepted Jesus Christ.

To return to the little mission meeting in California, the young man, having given his testimony, as stated, promised he would return the next night. The next night they asked him to testify for Jesus Christ. Rising, he said, "I am saved, I know that I am saved, for I have not wanted tobacco all day." This was the test that he put God to. He said that if God would save him from the habit that he had followed from his childhood, that he would believe that God had saved him from his sins.

The very next day William Mullen was called to preach. As before said he knew little of the Scriptures, but in the corral, where the horsemen were gathered, he would tell them the wonderful works that God had done for him. He could not declare unto them the Gospel as put forth in the Scriptures, but he would say, "Oh, I know that I am saved, I know that God has saved me for I have not uttered an oath and I could not help swearing before, I have not used any tobacco and I always loved it before, but now I do not care for it. I know that God has saved me, for he has made a new man of me, for the things that I used to love I do not care for any more now, and the things that I did not love I like now. I know and I have heard others say that he has done the same for them, and he will not turn anybody away, for I see that everybody that comes to him gets saved. I know that he will save you because he saved me, and if he could save me he could save anybody on earth."

Many have listened to the glad story, some have accepted it, some now are already in the field repeating the story, some have gone as missionaries, some are ordained ministers of the Gospel, while he goes on his simple way telling that Jesus Christ has died for sinful men.

—The Ram's Horn, Nov. 17, 1900, p. 11.