The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-11-01

40 hS b1h Wv tho tebH
its own night backward into that
OF him; to secret acts OF his college
days the thought OF which made
him shudder: yes; and to riots and
revelries.
In youth, his had been one of
those boiling. contagious spirits that
carry with them. irresistibly. tanner
companions. He had been q leader
In intermittent raids into forbidden
spheres; a leader also In certain
more decorous pursuit--if athletics
may be SO accounted: yet he had
been capable OF long PERIODS OF self
control. for a cause. Through II
all a spark had miracuously been
kept alive.
Popularity followed him from the
small New England college to the
Harvard Law School. He had been
soberer there, marked as a pleader,
and at last the day arrived when he
was summoned by q great New York
lawyer TO discuss his future. Sun
day interviewed. Obeying a way
ward impulse. he had gone TO one
Of the metropolitan churches to
hear a preacher renowned for his
influence over men.
There Is. indeed, much that Is
stirring to the imagination in the
spectacle OF a mass Of human beings
thronging into great church,
pouring UP the aisles. crowding the
galleries. Joining in full voices in
the hymns. What drew them? He
himself was singing words familiar
since childho God, and then suddenly
they were fraught with a startling
meaning!
"Fill me. radiancy divine,
Scatter all my unbelief"
Visions Of the Crusades rose be-
fore him, OF friar arousing France.
of a Maid of Orleans: OF masses OF
soiled, war-worn. sin-worn human
ity cropping toward the light. Even
after all these ages. the belief. the
hope would not down.
Outside, a dismal February rain
was falling, rain to wet the soul.
The reek Of damp clothes pervaded
the gallery where he sat surround
ed by clerks and shop girls. and he
pictured to himself the dreary rooms
from which they had emerged,
drown by the mysterious fire on
that altar. Was 1t a will-o'-the-
wisp? Below him, in the pews, were
the rich. Did they. too. need
warmth?
A NEW OUTLOOK.
Then came the sermon. 81 will
arise and go to my father"
After the service, far into the
afternoon, he had walked the wet
streets Needless Of his direction. in
an exaltation that he had felt be-
fore, but never with such intensity.
1t seemed as though he had always
wished to preach, and marvelled
that the perception had not come to
him sooner. If the man to whom
he had listened could pour the light
into the dark corners of other mems
souls. he, John Holder, felt the same
hot spark within him--despite the
dark corners of his own!
At dusk he came to himself. hun
cry, tired. and wet, In. what proved
to be the outskirts OF Harlem. He
could see the place now: the lonely,
wooden houses, the ramshackle
saloon. the ugly. yellow CLEAN from
the street lamps in a line along the
glistening pavement: beside him. a
lowering hill of granite with a real
estate sign, This lot for SALE" And
he had stood staring at II. thinking
OF the rock that would have to be
cut away before a man could build
there-and so read his own parable.
How much rock would have to be
cut away, how much patient chip
ping before the cdifice of which he
had been dreaming could be reared!
Could he ever do ii? Once removed,
he would be building on rock. But
couldy he remove 1t? To help revive
a faith. a dying faith. in a mate
rial age-that indeed were q mission
for any man!
He found his way to an elevated
train. and as it swept along stared
unseeing at the people who pushed
and jostled him. Still under the
spell, he reached his room and wrote
to the lawyer thanking him. but
saying that. he had reconsidered
coming to New York. It was not
until he had posted the letter, and
was on his way back to Cambridge
that he fully realized he had made
the decision OF his life.
WOULD TT LAsrs
Mlsgivings, many Of them, had
come in the months that followed.
misgivings and struggled, mockins
queries. Would II last? There was
the incredulity and amusement OF
nearest friends, who tried to dis
suade him from so extraordinary q
proceeding. Nobody. they said, ever
became a parson in these days: no.
body. at least, with his ability.
He was throwing himself away.
Ethics had taken the place of re-
ligion; intelligent men didn't go to
church. And within him went on
an endless debate. Public opinion
made some allowance for frailties
in other professions: In the minis
try. none: he would be committing
himself to be good the rest of his
life, and that seemed too vast an
undertaking for any human.
The chief horror that haunted
him was not failure-for oddly
enough he never seriously distrust-
ed his power--it was disaster.
Would God give him the strength to
night his demonf II he were to gain
the heights, only to stumble in tho
sight OF all men, to stumble and
fall!
Seeming echoes Of the hideous
mockery OF II rang in his ears:
where is the God that this man
proclaimed7 He saw the newspa-