released the pinions of his love and faith as the air releases the
wings of a bird. The hymn ceased; he could see the pastor rise from
behind the pulpit, advance, and with a gesture gather that sea of
heads to prayer. He could follow the sermon, most of all the
exhortation; around him was such stillness in the church that his
own heart-beats were audible. Then the Supper and then home to the
dormitory again--with a pain of happiness filling him, the rest and
the unrest of consecration.

Many other scenes he lived through in memory this morning--once
lived in reality amid that brotherhood of souls. His tenderest
thoughts perhaps dwelt on the young men's prayer-meetings of Sunday
afternoons at the college. There they drew nearest to the Eternal
Strength which was behind their weakness, and closest to each other
as student after student lifted a faltering, stumbling petition for
a common blessing on their work. The Immortal seemed to be in that
bare room, filling their hearts with holy flame, drawing around
them the isolation of a devoted band. They were one in One. Then
had followed the change in him which produced the change in them:
no fellowship, no friendship, with an unbeliever; and he was left
without a comrade.

His heart was yearning and sick this day to be reconciled to them
all. How did they think of him, speak of him, now? Who slept in his
bed? Who sat a little while, after the studies of the night were
over, talking to his room-mate? Who knelt down across the room at
his prayers when the lights were put out? And his professors--what
bulwarks of knowledge and rectitude and kindness they were!--all
with him at first, all against him at last, as in duty bound.