Five Years in the Alleghanies

by Jonathan Cross

I wrote the young man a kind letter, saying I hoped he would make a colporteur some day, and advised him to go to school a while.

The next thing I heard from him was a rap at my door. When I opened the door, an awkward-looking youth near six feet high stood before me, with the same suit of clothes on him he had got over two years before. The pants were several inches too short, and the coat-sleeves as deficient; indeed, the coat was little more than a big patch on his back. Said he, “I am the fellow that wrote you a letter about wanting to colport, and I have come to see about it.” I invited him into the house. He was all in a tremor of excitement. When I opened the parlor door he looked in with amazement, and in walking to a seat avoided stepping on the white spots in the carpet, which was the first one he ever saw. He was so embarrassed he could scarcely speak.

After talking a little while about crops, etc., he became composed. He then told me his desires to do good, and all about his conversion, which was entirely satisfactory. As it was late in the evening, I invited him to stay for the night; and by the time we got his poor old pony of a horse, not worth five dollars, put away, tea was ready. When he sat down he looked confused. I had much conversation with him that evening. At length I invited him up stairs to bed. On the way up he held by the railing to avoid treading on the narrow carpet in the centre.

In the morning he was up whistling psalm tunes bright and early. As soon as I was dressed I called him and told him I had reflected over the matter very carefully, and had come to the conclusion that his want of education and knowledge of the world would not justify me in employing him.

I saw his countenance change in a moment and the tears start in his eyes. “Oh,” said he, “I do want you to give me work, for I do feel that all I want to live for is to work for Christ.”

I cannot describe my feelings as he uttered these words. Here was a depth of devotion beyond any thing I had met. After some minutes’ silence I said to him, “There is a region of country on the head-waters of the Elk river where there never has been any preaching; if you will go there a month without any commission, I will see you are paid.”

His countenance was changed in a moment, and lit up with joy. In less than two hours I had a pair of colporteur’s saddle-bags filled with books and tracts, and he was on his journey to that destitute region, some forty miles distant. Soon after, some stock raisers who had been in that region buying cattle, told me they heard that the Tract Society had a great man out there; that the people were wonderfully pleased with him; that he was giving them books, and teaching them to read them.

At the end of the month he returned, all his stock had passed into the hands of the people, and he gave me a glowing account of the people’s wants and his success. He said it would take another month to get over that region, and he wanted to go back. After aiding him to dispense with his boy clothes, I started him with another load of books, cautioning him to avoid showing off his new suit as much as possible.

Another month’s work was done with great success, when he returned almost a new boy in his whole appearance. He had gained confidence by being constantly among people that did not know as much as he did.

I then had him commissioned for P—— county, a very mountainous region, and very destitute of the means of moral improvement. In a few months he had visited every family in the county. In many families the bare mention of his name will start tears in the eyes of the people, and the tracts that he distributed have been sewed together and covered with deerskin as remembrances of the man that left them.