I visited all the families the same way. God’s Spirit seemed to stir every soul. In a few months after, the pastor was able to visit them, and found that each had established the family altar. Each one resolved that he would begin to pray in his own family, and then he could go and urge others to do the same. Neither of them supposed that I suspected them of living without prayer till they began to compare notes; and then they found I had talked to all the same way. They sent me their thanks by their pastor for “catching them with guile.”
In another neighborhood, I was urged by a very good man to visit his brother-in-law, who he told me was a wicked man, and raising a large family like heathen. He told me that he was a gentleman in his behavior to strangers, and would treat me kindly; but to secure for me a kind reception, he sent with me a young man who was a nephew both of himself and of the gentleman. The day was extremely cold, and the distance some four or five miles. We visited several cabins along the river hills, and expected to reach his house about noon, and remain there till the next day.
About one o’clock we came to the place. It seemed to be the abode of plenty. We tied our horses, and entered a large front room. Mr. C----, the head of the family, was in it alone, shelling corn on a machine, keeping up a hot fire by burning the cobs. His nephew introduced me to him, but he scarce looked at me, spoke very little, and went on with his work, without asking me even to sit down. We both sat some time without a word being spoken, when the young man passed through into another room, where the family were talking. As soon as I got warm, I concluded to try and do my work and leave the house, as every thing looked rather gloomy.
He was a big, fierce-looking man. His countenance indicated that he was a very wicked man, which proved to be the fact. I sometimes thought it would be best to leave him without saying any thing, but my conscience would not let me do that. At last I said, “Mr. C----, I am engaged in distributing good religious books, published by the American Tract Society, and I have called to supply you and your family with them.” I had scarcely got the words spoken, when he sprang right before me, with his fist clinched, and called me a horse-thief and robber, and every vile name that a vile tongue could use, interspersed with the most awful oaths I ever heard. He rubbed his fist under my nose, and swore he would smash my face into a jelly. I sat still for some time without speaking, in the hope that he would stop, that I might reason with him; but it was in vain.