“There is no person on this earth rich enough, or powerful enough, to dictate what I shall say, or what I shall not say, as a preacher of the gospel. You may have this pulpit, and you may secure, to fill it, some one who will be your slave; but I will wear no other bonds than those of the Master, whether in the pulpit or out, and no man, even though he be a thousand times a millionaire, will shape my words or actions, as a minister of the gospel, or as a private citizen.” There was much in Ralph Cutter’s mind that did not find expression in words. He had been disgusted with the First Church in Papyrus, or rather with its bosses, before he had been with it a fortnight. Only the magical charm of a pair of black eyes, and the lovable personality behind them, had made life in the Paper Town endurable to him. Recently Zechariah Baldwin had given the young preacher plain notice that if he continued to occupy the pulpit of the First Church, he must cut out some of his pet hobbies from future sermons. He must cease to meddle with the relations between labor and capital, both in the pulpit and out--and, in short, he must omit everything which could possibly offend the Honorable Zechariah. This dictation the young preacher positively refused to submit to. He tried to imagine the changed attitude of the people toward him at the close of to-morrow’s sermon. There would be faces averted from him which had always before been friendly. There would be hands withheld which had always before sought his in friendly greeting. There was one peculiarly sharp thorn in this thorny affair. How he wished that those searching black eyes did not belong to a member of the “Royal Family”, as the Baldwin family was sometimes called. Nature was not disturbed by his eloquence. A hawk sailed with unmoved wings, in mighty circles, high above him. The noisy blue jays were mobbing an owl in the oak grove close by. The blossoms of the trailing arbutus were as lavish of their fragrance as if no one in the world were troubled, or perplexed, or in love. All unconscious that any human being was within hearing, the preacher continued:-- “When I first came to Papyrus I delivered a sermon against the disfranchisement of negroes at the South. After the service a workingman asked me why I did not ask a full and free ballot for the white paper-maker of Massachusetts, as well as for the negro cotton-planter of Mississippi? I was much surprised when the workman told me that mill-hands in Papyrus, who are legal voters, do not have a full vote in town-government, and cannot secure it.