Pardon me that I have opened the record. I confess it makes me sick at heart. With you I wish it had never been enacted; with you I wish it might be buried to-day in the deepest depths of oblivion. But I tell you, when we stand, as we do practically to-day, in the face of those men, and in the face of God who made us and them of one image and of one blood, we have no right to forget that guilty past. It is one of the mighty motives that are still to be invoked in their behalf. Like the blood of Abel, it cries to us for atonement. It says to us to-day, “In your nation, aided and abetted by you or your fathers, under your flag, that wrong was inflicted; and until that wrong is thoroughly righted, neither the remembrance nor the cry can be allowed to pass.” It says that you owe them every reparation in your power; that they have a valid lien on every dollar of your property, and on every possible degree of your culture. It is not enough that you have made them free—to have denied that would have been to perpetuate the wrong itself. It is not enough that you have given them the franchise—that in itself were a barren gift. Give them the rather that manhood that was their birth-right withheld. Lift them up, if you can, into truthfulness and purity, intelligence and industry; make them free with the freedom of the Gospel of Christ, and then that past may be forgotten. And brethren, I make an appeal of that same sort to-day for the Indian and the Chinese;—the Indian, abused, deceived, made a fool of; a nominally Christian civilization degrading him beyond even his original degradation. And the Chinese, in that part of the land where they have chosen to dwell, despised, defrauded, spit upon. My claim is that whatever appeal you propose to disregard, it is not becoming for you to turn a deaf ear to those whom you have so foully wronged.