History of the M.E. Church, Vol. IV - Media Sabda Org

his own vicinity, but often in extensive excursions through the state, and at quarterly meetings and
camp-meetings. He was venerated as a saint for his singular piety; and it is probable that no man of
his day wielded, in the West, greater power in the pulpit. "Prayer-meetings," says his biographer,
"were established, classes revived, societies raised up, and new Churches organized, wherever his
labors were employed, or his influence felt. There are hundreds, and perhaps thousands, still living
throughout the great West, who, under God, are indebted to the instrumentality of Valentine Cook
for all their hopes of immortality and eternal life."
The people believed that, like the original apostles, he "spoke from inspiration," and that by his
prayers miracles were wrought among the sick. Marvels are told of the power of his word. A young
preacher, who had never seen him, learning that he was expected to preach at a private house, rode
some miles from his own circuit to hear the noted evangelist. On arriving he inquired if Cook was
to preach that evening. "Yes," was the reply; "he has just walked out into the grove." His habits of
devotion were proverbial, and as it was the custom among Methodist preachers of that day to prepare
for preaching by hours of reading, meditation, and prayer in the woods, it was not difficult to
conjecture the cause of his retirement. "Anxious to see one of the most extraordinary men of his age,
I took," says the visitor, "a position on the portico that looks out unto the beautiful grove into which
he had retired. At the approach of the venerable stranger, a sense of awe came over me. There
walked God's devoted ambassador, lacking only the seer's gift to make him an awful prophet. My
thoughts and feelings were so concentrated upon him that I could scarcely speak. Valentine Cook
was slightly above the medium height and size. There was no symmetry in his figure; his limbs,
being disproportionately long, seemed more like awkward appendages than well-fitted parts of a
perfect whole. He was what is called 'stoop-shouldered' to such a degree, that his long neck projected
from between his shoulders almost at a right angle with the perpendicular of his chest. His head,
which was of peculiar formation, being much longer than usual from the crown to the point of the
chin, seemed rather suspended to than supported by the neck. A remarkably low forehead, small,
deeply-sunken hazel eyes, a prominent Roman nose, large mouth, thin lips, a dark, sallow
complexion, coarse black hair, with here and there a thread of gray, formed a "tout ensemble" in
which nature seemed to have paid no regard to order, strength, or beauty. His singularly eccentric
appearance, his homely apparel, and humble attitude, as he slowly approached the house, are
imprinted upon my mind as vividly now as when, for the first time, I looked upon him as I sat in that
'little portico. He laid his hand gently upon my head, and in the most solemn accents said, 'Be thou
faithful unto death, and God will give thee a crown of life.' He uttered not another word; these were
enough. They seemed, as they fell from his lips, to possess a weight of meaning which I had never
seen in them before, and made an impression upon my mind which thirty-six years of toil and
affliction have not been able to obliterate. As the shadows of the night deepened, the people from
town and country began to assemble, and, though the rain was descending in torrents, every
apartment of the house was soon filled to overflowing. The hour for preaching arrived, he took his
position in the entry by a small table, upon which lay the 'old family Bible.' Resting his hand
reverently on that blessed volume, he commenced repeating, in a somewhat indistinct undertone the
affecting hymn beginning with
"I saw one hanging on a tree
In agony and blood;
He fixed his languid eyes on me,
As near the cross I stood.'