The neighborhood was far above the average in its religious life and moral worth. A man under the influence of liquor was seldom seen, and a profane word was hardly ever heard. The United Brethren Church was by far the leading denomination in all that country. The old log church in which we all worshiped stood on father’s farm, and our home was the stopping-place not only of preachers, but of many others who attended divine service. At times our house was so crowded that mother was compelled to make beds on the floor for the family, and not unfrequently for others as well. But to her it was a great joy to perform such a ministry for the gospel’s sake. Her loving hands could always provide for others, no matter who they were, or how many. For the third of a century father was the Sunday-school superintendent in the neighborhood, and, for a longer period, teacher of the juvenile class. Thus he saw little children pass up into other and older classes, and finally to manhood and womanhood, when by and by their children came in and were given a place in “Uncle Dan’s” class. At the age of fourteen I was born the second time, and united with the Church. The occasion was a great revival held by Rev. S. J. Graham, of precious memory. Seeing my oldest sister, Sarah, bow at the altar, greatly moved my young heart. A few moments later I observed father coming back toward the door, and thinking perhaps he was wanting to speak to me on the subject of religion, I immediately left the house. My state of mind became awful. The next evening I saw mother pressing her way toward me through the standing crowd. I knew what it meant, and sat down with the hope of concealing myself from her; but how vain the effort! What child ever hid himself away from a mother’s love? Putting her hand on my head, she said, “William, won’t you be a Christian?” I made no reply, but said to myself, “I can’t stand this; I must do something.” How her appeal, plaintive and tender, made me weep! It was really the first time she had ever come to me with such directness and warmth of heart. To this very moment I can feel the touch of her hand and hear her loving appeal. The next day I talked with other boys who were with me in school, and asked them to accompany me to the “mourner’s bench,” which they did. At that time the class, though in the country, numbered one hundred and seventy souls. Three months later, I was appointed one of its stewards, and with this office came my first experience in raising money for the Church. The next year I was elected assistant class-leader, and though young and inexperienced, I rendered the very best service I possibly could. My educational advantages up to this time had been only such as the common schools afforded, with the addition of a close application to study at the home fireside, aided by the historic “pine torch” and “tallow candle.”