The excitement of the man was scarcely less than the evident pleasure of the listeners. “And, moreover,” I continued, “I will readily excuse you for not giving me anything for the Bible cause, and can no longer be surprised that you desire to see all the Bibles destroyed.” “Why?” he asked, turning upon me sharply. “Because,” said I, “I can not expect a monkey, however developed and improved, to appreciate a revelation from God.” He became furious, sprang to his feet, and with gesticulations as rapid and violent as the volubility of his tongue, and as threatening as the intensity of the mingled chagrin and anger that burned in his countenance, delivered himself somewhat as follows: “You are a Methodist preacher, going about trying to make the people believe that they can get religion—that God can convert them. It is all a deception—a delusion. God can do no such thing. I was deceived once, too, and was fool enough to join the Methodist church and believe that God could convert me. I went to the mourners’ bench, where you try to get people to go; they sang, and prayed and shouted over me, and beat me on the back, and tried to make me believe that I was converted. But it was no such thing. God could not convert _me_. How could he get into me? Where would he come in at? At the mouth? or nose? or ears? All the men in the world could not make me believe that I could be converted. God ’lmighty could not convert _me_.” He closed, pretty well exhausted, and yet with his feelings somewhat in the ascendant, and with marked interest awaited my reply. “I am not at all astonished at the fact,” said I, “that God could not convert you.” “Why? Do you not teach the people that God can convert and save men?” “Certainly I do. But, then, I read in the Scriptures no provision whatever for the conversion and salvation of monkeys, however improved.” Without another word he wheeled and “went away in a rage,” snatching up his sack of books in his flight, and muttering something that could not be heard above the roar of laughter that followed him. I never saw him afterward. From that moment he went his way, and I mine. Our paths never crossed each other, or at least we never met. Our encounter lasted about half an hour, and when he disappeared so unceremoniously nearly every gentleman present walked up and gave me a dollar for the Bible cause, as the best way of testifying their appreciation of the victory. This aptly illustrates the pernicious character of the teachings then rife through the State, and this “improved monkey” was a fair specimen of the class of itinerant lecturers that were then talking to thousands upon thousands of the people every week.