In the winter of 1819-20, I left Aurelius and went about twenty miles to Hector, Schuyler County. A Methodist revival occurred in that town, and religious excitement ran so high that it became fashionable to make a profession of religion. So far as I knew, every young person in the neighborhood but myself professed to receive "a saving change of heart" before the close of the revival. As was usual during such periods of religious excitement, meetings were held nightly. In these meetings it was the custom to request those who were "seeking religion," to come forward to some seat reserved for the purpose, to be prayed for. I was somewhat affected by the intense religious feeling. One evening, I attended a meeting presided over by Elder Gilmore, the leading minister. Two or three other preachers were also present. The usual invitation was given for penitents to come forward to the "anxious seat." Some time was spent in prayer, when all who had come forward, except myself, professed to have a "change of heart." The meeting was closed, and Elder Gilmore proposed that those who were willing to do so, should retire to a private house with me, and continue in prayer till I was converted. As proposed, we retired to a neighboring house, where the praying continued until two o'clock in the morning. Elder Gilmore then asked me if I had not received a "change of heart." I replied that I had not realized any "change." After so much fruitless labor, they were evidently disposed to give me up as a reprobate. Elder Gilmore told me that I had sinned away the day of grace, and my damnation was sure. He asserted that he would never offer another prayer for me. Although religious in my nature, even at that early age, sectarian religion seemed empty and void. The following morning, I left the scene of this religious excitement in Hector and returned to Cayuga County, about three miles from Auburn. There I went to work for Mr. Monroe, to learn the trade of a blacksmith. He carried on considerable business, and employed a number of young men and apprentices. One evening, Mr. Monroe and the workmen gathered around the center table, in the sitting room, to while away the evening in a game of cards. Mr. Monroe invited me to participate. My father had counseled me never to play a game of cards. "Not," said he, "that there is any particular harm in playing a game of cards, but card-playing has a tendency to lead those who follow it into other vices." I determined, at the time, to keep his counsel should it cost me my situation. Mr. Monroe did not appear disposed to receive any apology for not accepting his invitation. I arose, took a Bible that was near me, and read during the evening while the remainder of the company played cards. The most of Mr. Monroe's workmen were inclined to infidelity, and the course I took that evening, afterwards brought upon me much annoyance and ridicule.