have been
plain that the lad was not seeing his pastor at all, but seeing THROUGH
him into his own future: into his life, his great chosen life-work. His
young feet had come in their travels nigh to the limits of his Promised
Land: he was looking over into it.

"Ask some more! The last of them! Out with them ALL! Make an end of
this now and here!"

The lad reached for his hat, which he had laid on the floor, and stood
up. He was as pale as the dead.

"I shall never be able to preach Apostolic Christianity," he said, and
turned to the door.

But reaching it, he wheeled and came back.

"I am in trouble!" he cried, sitting down again. "I don't know what to
believe. I don't know what I do believe. My God!" he cried again,
burying his face in his hands. "I believe I am beginning to doubt the
Bible. Great God, what am I coming to! what is my life coming to! ME
doubt the Bible!". . .

The interview of that day was one of the signs of two storms which were
approaching: one appointed to reach the University, one to reach the
lad.

The storm now gathering in many quarters and destined in a few years to
burst upon the University was like its other storms that had gone
before: only, this last one left it a ruin which will stay a ruin.

That oldest, best passion of the Kentucky people for the establishment
in their own land of a broad institution of learning for their own
sons, though revived in David's time on a greater scale than ever
before, was not to be realized. The new University, bearing the name of
the commonwealth and opening at the close of the Civil War as a sign of
the new peace of the new nation, having begun so fairly and risen in a
few years to fourth or fifth place in patronage among all those in the
land, was already entering upon its decline. The reasons of this were
the same that had successively ruined each of its predecessors: the
same old sectarian quarrels, enmities, revenges; the same old political
oppositions and hatreds; the same personal ambitions, jealousies,
strifes.

Away back in 1780, while every man, woman, and child in the western
wilderness ness was in dire struggle for life itself, those far-seeing
people had induced the General Assembly of Virginia to confiscate and
sell in Kentucky the lands of British Tories, to found a public
seminary for Kentucky boys--not a sectarian school. These same
broad-minded pioneers had later persuaded her to give twenty thousand
acres of her land to the