At another time, with his brother, John Newgent, he happened to drop in at a Methodist camp meeting in Sullivan County. They arrived just in time for the morning service. A number of ministers were seated on the platform, among them being Rev. Hayden Hayes, the presiding elder. Rev. Mr. Hayes had met Newgent on a former occasion, and as soon as he saw him enter the camp, rushed back and taking him by the arm, led him to the platform. Hayes was a strong, portly man, and the delicate lad was helpless in his grasp; thus he was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and was informed that he must preach. Though he vainly sought to be excused, yet he was equal to the emergency. He had proceeded about ten minutes with his discourse, when a man sitting a few feet in front of the platform was converted and began to shout. He continued, and four others in the congregation broke loose in like manner, all of them having been converted through the effect of the sermon, and the discourse disappeared in a whirlwind of praise that completely drowned the speaker’s voice. Up to that time there had been no move in the meeting. John Newgent was imbued with the old-school Baptist doctrine and had not sympathized with his brother’s preaching propensities. After resuming their journey they rode for a time in silence. Finally the older brother said, “Jack, you know I have always opposed your preaching. But I want to say that I have no further objection to it; but,” he added with quivering lips, “I want you to pray for me.” The sermon had touched his heart. Though urgent demands were made upon the boy preacher to stay and assist in the meeting, he was unable to do so, and heard nothing further from it until after he had returned from the war, when by chance he again passed through the vicinity. He stopped at the home of a Mrs. Mayfield, on whose farm the camp was located, to get his dinner and his horse fed. As he was taking his leave, having paid his bill, he chanced to observe the camp ground a short distance away. Up to that time he was not aware that he was in the immediate vicinity of it. He inquired of his hostess concerning the camp meetings. She told him that but one such meeting had been held, though the intention was to make it a permanent institution. The unsettled condition of times during the Rebellion prevented the plan from being carried out. “How was that meeting?” Newgent asked, as one who had a peculiar interest in it. “Oh, it was a grand success. There was a little Baptist preacher from near Lafayette happened in and preached one morning, and just set things on fire. From that time on the meetings were powerful.” “What was the fellow’s name?” he asked, but she could not recall it. “Was it Newgent?” She said that sounded like it. “Well,” he said, “I know him. He isn’t considered much of a preacher up there where he lives, but,” he added, “you are mistaken about his being a Baptist. He is a United Brethren.”