ess by the spirit of truth. He is one known to
many of you as an honest, worthy man, for many years faithful in the
discharge of his duties in this house. There is no Christian reason why
he should be denied fellowship around this table. I wish, therefore, to
ask the members of the church to vote again on the acceptance or
rejection of Henry Roland, disciple of Jesus, who has asked for
permission to this body of Christ in His name. Will all those in favor
of thus receiving our brother into the great family of faith signify it
by raising the right hand?"

For a moment not a person in the church stirred. Every one seemed
smitten into astonished inaction by the sudden proposal of the minister.
Then hands began to go up. Philip counted them, his heart beating with
anguish as he foresaw the coming result. He waited a minute, it seemed
to many like several minutes, and then said: "All those opposed to the
admission of the applicant signify it by the same sign."

Again there was the same significant, reluctant pause; then half a dozen
hands went up in front of the church. Instantly, from almost every part
of the house, hands went up in numbers that almost doubled those who had
voted in favor of admission. From the gallery on the sides, where
several of Philip's work-men friends sat, a hiss arose. It was slight,
but heard by the entire congregation. Philip glanced up there and it
instantly ceased.

Without another word he stepped down from the platform and began to read
the list of those who had been received into church membership. He had
almost reached the end of it when a person whose name was called last
rose from his seat near the front, where all the newly received members
were in the habit of sitting together, and, turning partly around so as
to face the congregation and still address Philip, he said:

"Mr. Strong, I do not feel as if after what has taken place here this
morning that I could unite with this church. This man who has been
excluded from church membership is the son of a woman born into slavery
on the estate of one of my relatives. That slave woman once nursed her
master through a terrible illness and saved his life. This man, her son,
was then a little child. But in the strange changes that have gone on
since the war, the son of the old master has been reduced to poverty and
obliged to work for a living. He is now in this town. He is this very
day lying upon a sick bed in the tenement district. And this