At length he stood before the old church that had been the arena of
his struggles and triumphs for the past ten years, and was destined
to be for him the scene of a drama more thrilling than any he had
known or dreamed in the past.
He passed into the auditorium, ascended the pulpit, and sat down
in the armchair where but a few hours before he had held the gaze
of thousands. The electric lights glimmering through the windows
of the gable showed the empty pews in sharp outline.
"I wonder if they know when they go they sometimes leave my soul
as empty and as lonely as those vacant pews? I give, give, give
forever of thought, sympathy and life and never receive, until
sometimes my heart cries to a passing dog for help!
"I'd build here to God a temple whose sheer beauty and glory would
stop every huckster on the street, lift his eyes to heaven and melt
his soul into tears. It must--it shall come to pass!"
He sat there for nearly two hours, dreaming of his plans of uplifting
the city, and through the city as a centre reaching the Nation and
its millions with pen and tongue of fire. Gradually the sense of
isolation from self enveloped him, and the thought of human service
challenged the highest reach of his powers.
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