make a large volume of thrilling narrative.  Philip’s story but touches on this other.  He had grown rapidly familiar with the different phases of life which loafed and idled and drank itself away during that period of inaction.  Hundreds of men had drifted away to other places in search of work.  Almost as many more had taken to the road to swell the ever-increasing number of professional tramps, and, in time, to develop into petty thieves and criminals.  But those who remained had a desperate struggle with poverty.  Philip grew sick at heart as he went among the people and saw the complete helplessness, the utter estrangement of sympathy and community of feeling between the church people and these representatives of the physical labor of the world.  Every time he went out to do his visiting this feeling deepened in him.  This Sunday afternoon in particular it seemed to him as if the depression and discouragement of the tenement district weighed on him like a great burden, bearing him down to the earth with sorrow and heart-ache.

He had been in the habit of going out to Communion Sunday with the emblems of Christ to observe the rite by the bedsides of the aged or ill, or those who could not get out to church.  He carried with him this time a basket containing a part of the communion service.  After going to the homes of one or two invalid church-members, he thought of the person who had been mentioned by the man in the morning as living in the tenement district and in a critical condition.  He had secured his address, and after a little inquiry he soon found himself in a part of the tenements near to him.

He climbed up three flights of stairs and knocked at the door.  It was opened by the sexton.  He greeted Philip with glad surprise.

The minister smiled sadly.

“So, my brother, it is true you are serving your Master here?  My heart is grieved at the action of the church this morning.”

“Don’t say anything, Mr. Strong.  You did all you could.  But you are just in time to see him.”  The sexton pointed into a small back room.  “He is going fast.  I didn’t suppose he was so near.  I would have asked you to come, but I didn’t think he was failing so.”

Philip followed the sexton into the room.  The son of the old slave-master was sinking rapidly.  He was conscious, however, and at Philip’s quiet question concerning his peace with God, a smile passed over his face and he moved his lips.  Philip understood him.  A sudden thought occurred to Philip.  He opened the basket, took out the bread and wine, set them on the small table, and said: 

“Disciple of Jesus, would you like to partake of the blessed communion once more before you see the King in His glory?”

The gleam of satisfaction in the man’s eyes told Philip enough.  The sexton said in a low voice:  “He belonged to the Southern Episcopal Church in Virginia.”  Something in the wistful look of the sexton gave Philip an inspiration for what followed.