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Updated: June 4, 2025
Perhaps you wonder how so numerous a race of these beings has come to exist; but that boy at your elbow, bending under the weight of his literary burden, is a colporteur for converting the men and women of this "enlightened nation" to rowdyism. Those books portray just such men and women as you see before you, and that is why they are welcomed so warmly.
Hence he was a sort of volunteer colporteur distributing gossip, as a notion pedler, before he was a store clerk where centered all the local news. It was on this experience that he would mingle with the newspaper reporters and telegraph men fraternally, saying with his winning smile and undeniable "push": "Let me in, boys, for I am somewhat of a news-gatherer myself."
Turning to this man the colporteur said quietly, "Does not death come into public-houses? Don't people die in public-houses? Surely it is right to take the Word of God into any place where death comes, for `after death the judgment. `The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin." "Come, come, that'll do. We don't want none of that here," said the landlord of the house.
"By what name shall I remember you, friend?" asked the Knight. "John Muntz is my proper name, bookseller and labourer in Christ's service," answered the colporteur, as he bade the Knight farewell.
At first, as the colporteur read, the people listened with grave attention; but when he came to the verses that describe the idols of the heathen as being made of, "silver and gold, the work of men's hands," with mouths that could not speak, and eyes that could not see, and ears that could not hear, several of the more earnest listeners began to frown, and it was evident that they regarded the language of the colporteur's book as applicable to their sacred pictures, and resented the implied censure.
He is God, and it is `God who giveth us the victory. You can't do it by yourself, if you try ever so much." The man bought the booklet and a Testament. "That's what I call carryin' the war into the enemy's camp," remarked one of the company, as the colporteur thanked them and went away. "Come, let's go," said Aspel, rising abruptly and draining his glass of ginger-beer.
He had no sooner perjured himself than the apprentice produced his receipt, and the master was straightway fined and disgraced. He was a scoundrel who deserved it, but the apprentice was a rash fellow, whose victory was bought at a price dearer than life. He had received, in payment or otherwise, from some colporteur, two copies of Christianity Unveiled, and one of them he had sold to his master.
"Here is one lately printed worth its weight in gold, and more." The Knight took it. It bore the simple title "The New Testament. German. Wittemburg." "That is the very book I want," exclaimed the Knight, eagerly. "Yes, I doubt not that it is worth its weight in gold. By whom has it been done into German?" "By Dr Martin Luther," answered the colporteur.
At this interview and at many others she spoke to him about his soul's salvation. A French Bible was given to him before she left. On her return to Pau the next year, he was found breaking stones by the roadside, a conversation proving that he was quite a changed man. In the end he did good Christian service as a colporteur in France.
Two only of the vagrant tribe the boy dislikes, the colporteur and the travelling Spiritualist two cold, shabby, sniffling beings, each wrapped in a shawl and each driving an old horse afflicted with poll-evil. Whenever the boy goes to put up one of these men's horses he wants to break his wagon and whip, and he does give them a few ferocious shakes in the solitude of the stable.
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