on my account.

To whom should I go now for a confirmation of my wavering beliefs? One
of the results--it will be remembered of religion as I was taught it
was a pernicious shyness, and even though I had found a mentor and
confessor, I might have hesitated to unburden myself. This would be
different from arguing with Ralph Hambleton. In my predicament, as I was
wandering through the yard, I came across a notice of an evening talk
to students in Holder Chapel, by a clergyman named Phillips Brooks. This
was before the time, let me say in passing, when his sermons at Harvard
were attended by crowds of undergraduates. Well, I stood staring at the
notice, debating whether I should go, trying to screw up my courage; for
I recognized clearly that such a step, if it were to be of any value,
must mean a distinct departure from my present mode of life; and I
recall thinking with a certain revulsion that I should have to "turn
good." My presence at the meeting would be known the next day to all my
friends, for the idea of attending a religious gathering when one was
not forced to do so by the authorities was unheard of in our set. I
should be classed with the despised "pious ones" who did such things
regularly. I shrank from the ridicule. I had, however, heard of Mr.
Brooks from Ned Symonds, who was by no means of the pious type, and
whose parents attended Mr. Brooks's church in Boston.... I left my
decision in abeyance. But when evening came I stole away from the club
table, on the plea of an engagement, and made my way rapidly toward
Holder Chapel. I had almost reached it--when I caught a glimpse of
Symonds and of some others approaching,--and I went on, to turn again.
By this time the meeting, which was in a room on the second floor, had
already begun. Palpitating, I climbed the steps; the door of the
room was slightly ajar; I looked in; I recall a distinct sensation of
surprise,--the atmosphere of that meeting was so different from what
I had expected. Not a "pious" atmosphere at all! I saw a very tall
and heavy gentleman, dressed in black, who sat, wholly at ease, on the
table! One hand was in his pocket, one foot swung clear of the ground;
and he was not preaching, but talking in an easy, conversational tone to
some forty young men who sat intent on his words. I was too excited to
listen to what he was saying, I was making a vain attempt to classify
him. But I remember the thought, for it struck me with force,--that
if Chri