Five Years in the Alleghanies

by Jonathan Cross

I arose and introduced myself, and asked if he was Mr. V——, the gentleman of the house. He replied that he was. I then told him I was a colporteur visiting from house to house, selling and giving books, and talking and praying with the people.

“Oh, I have heard of you about here for two or three days. I am a Universalist, sir; I don’t believe there is any such place as hell.” I replied that it would be well for many of us if that doctrine was true, and asked him how long he had been a Universalist. He said about eight years; that his mother had belonged to the orthodox, and taught him in his early years about a terrible place called hell, and that he knew no better till about eight years ago. That for three or four years after he heard the true doctrine of the salvation of all men, he was troubled with those foolish prejudices; but for the last four years he had never had a solitary pang on that subject.

I replied that it was often hard to get rid of a mother’s instructions and prayers; that it had taken the devil four years to silence his conscience, and get them put to sleep.

“Do you feel confident,” I said, “that you are this moment prepared to enter heaven if you were to die?” “Yes,” said he, “as certain as I am that the sun rises and sets.” “Well,” said I, “is not this rather a toilsome world to live in?” “Yes,” said he, “it is, and I have a full share of it.” “Then,” said I, “why not cut your throat, and go right to heaven this evening?” “Oh,” said he, “I have my wife to provide for.” “Oh,” said I, “cut her throat, and take her along.” “Oh,” said he, “that would be wrong.” “No,” said I, “if your creed is right, it cannot be wrong; and even if it should, you would be done with all the consequences of the wrong as soon as you were dead.” He hung his head, and made no further reply. I told him I hoped that he had seen the fallacy of his belief, and would at once abandon such soul-destroying opinions. I sold him several books, and left him.

As the men worked by turns all night in the rolling-mills, and it was difficult to gain access to them, one of the proprietors proposed that he would join me to visit them all the next Sabbath, when they often gathered in groups to play cards and drink. Accordingly the next Sabbath morning we were joined by a theological student, and commenced going round the houses and rooms, near one hundred in number.

Late in the evening we entered the apartments of Mr. V—— and his wife. They were sitting reading new books, which I think were those I had sold them. I said, “Good evening, Mr. V——. I have come to talk with you again, and I am glad to see you reading those books. I hope you have changed your mind on religious subjects.” “No,” said he, “I am more convinced than ever that I am right.” “Well,” said I, “I want to ask you a few questions by the way of information, as you profess to have a near cut to heaven.” Said he, “I am not going to answer any more of your questions. I don’t like to be criticized.” I told him I would only ask him easy questions; that I wanted to know what that scripture meant which speaks of a class of men who “shall not be forgiven, neither in this world, nor in the world to come.” Said he, “I am not going to answer any more questions.”

Mr. R—— said he would like to ask him one question. “There were two thieves crucified with Christ. He said to the one, ‘This day shalt thou be with me in paradise;’ where did the other go?” He made no answer.

We all three united in urging him to repent and believe in Christ, but he made no answer. At last I said, “Brethren, unless God will hear and answer prayer in this man’s behalf, he is a lost man.” His wife was weeping as if her heart would break. We knelt in prayer, and I think there were four earnest hearts lifted up to God. He sat still some minutes, but at last he knelt. When we rose from our knees the tears were running down his cheeks. I said, “Do you feel no ‘pangs’ now?” With a sob that seemed to come from his heart, he said, “I don’t know what has come over me.” We then pointed him to the Saviour, and told him we believed his feelings were produced by the Spirit of God. Of all the penitents that I have ever seen, I hardly remember one who seemed so deeply moved as this man. During the time he remained in that place he seemed to be an entirely changed man.

One day, accompanied by the Rev. Mr. J——, we called at the office of a very fine-looking gentleman, and introduced the subject of religion to him. He was rather surly and sceptical. I proposed to sell him a book, but he declined, saying that he seldom read such books. At last I proposed to give him a copy of Nelson on Infidelity, and went on to say that it equalled any romance in interest. At last he said, “I have money plenty to buy books, and as you are so urgent about it, I will buy it, and read it; and if it is not as good as you say it is, I will give you a thrashing the first time I catch you.” I told him I would run the risk of that if he would read the book carefully.

About ten days after we were passing again, and called on him. He met us in the most cordial manner. I told him I had called to see whether he would thrash me or not for the book I had sold him. “Oh,” said he, “it is the best book I ever read. I would not take five dollars for it, if I could not get another like it.” We found him deeply anxious about his soul. After a long talk with him, I told him I was about to close my labors there, and never expected to meet him again in this world, and urged him to meet me in heaven. With tears running down his cheeks, he said to Mr. J——, “Will you not come and see me again?” Mr. J—— said with tears that he would, and he no doubt did very frequently.