The boy preacher was a popular character. To see a man on the _ante meridian_ of life in the pulpit was at that time quite unusual. The popular prejudice was in favor of men who had spent the major part of their lives on the farm or in business, thus acquiring a competence that would enable them to proclaim that salvation is free without being embarrassed or embarrassing their congregations on the money question. Hence, a diminutive lad of seventeen, weighing only about eighty pounds, exercising the ministerial function was in itself sufficient to attract the multitudes. Wherever he preached he was greeted by immense audiences. By many he was regarded as a prodigy, though he could not be classed as such, prodigies seldom accomplishing more than to afford amusement for curious spectators. It is true, however, that he displayed qualities unusual for one of his years, though it must be admitted that the greater part of his power lay in his intense religious zeal and earnestness. Some characteristic incidents in this part of his ministry will not only be of interest in themselves, but will at the same time serve to illustrate his unique individuality. He went on one occasion to fill an appointment at what was known as the Rough and Ready School House. The name was justified by the prevailing social conditions. Like Paul on Mars Hill, he found that at least some of the people were very religious, though their religious energy was not always directed to the best advantage. Not infrequently does it transpire that men will fight for their religion even when they are utterly averse to the practice of it, a fact which had a forcible illustration in this particular service. He preached with his usual energy. The house was crowded and the sermon seemed to be well received. There happened to be present a minister of what was designated as the Campbellite persuasion. Evidently the sermon did not coincide with his theological bias. He asked permission to say a few words as the speaker took his seat. The permission granted, he sallied forth with a tirade of abuse and denunciation of the young preacher and his theology in which his passion played a larger part than either his judgment or his conscience. When he finally ran down, Newgent arose in a calm manner and said, “Brother, with your way of applying Scripture, I can prove that Eve was the mother of a turkey buzzard.” “Prove it, then,” shouted back the irascible theologue. “Well, the Bible says that Eve was the mother of all living, and that includes turkey buzzards. Let us be dismissed,” and calling the audience to their feet, he pronounced the benediction before his assailant had time to reply.