filled his heart with emotion.

Perhaps the very freedom of these vacation excursions helped to
feed his growing discontent. The yeast of rebellion was forever
stirring in him. He wanted to come to life with open mind. He was
possessed of an insatiable curiosity about it. This took him to
the slums of Verden, to the redlight district, to Socialist
meetings, to a striking coal camp near the city where he narrowly
escaped being killed as a scab. He knew that something was wrong
with our social life. Inextricably blended with success and
happiness he saw everywhere pain, defeat, and confusion. Why must
such things be? Why poverty at all?

But when he flung his questions at Pearson, who had charge of the
work in sociology, the explanations of the professor seemed to him
pitifully weak.

In the ethics class he met the same experience. A chance reference
to Drummond's "Natural Law in the Spiritual world" introduced him
to that stimulating book. All one night he sat up and read it--
drank it in with every fiber of his thirsty being.

The fire in his stove went out. He slipped into his overcoat. Gray
morning found him still reading. He walked out with dazed eyes
into a world that had been baptized anew during the night to a
miraculous rebirth.

But when he took his discovery to the lecture room Dawson was not
only cold but hostile. Drummond was not sound. There was about him
a specious charm very likely to attract young minds. Better let