onveyed quickly, for the sum of five cents. I spoke of our
capitalists as men more sinned against than sinning. Their money was
always at the service of enterprises tending to the development of our
metropolis.

When I was not in the meetings, however, and especially when in my room
at night, I was continually trying to fight off a sense of loneliness
that seemed to threaten to overwhelm me. I wanted to be alone, and yet I
feared to be. I was aware, in spite of their congratulations on my
efforts, of a growing dislike for my associates; and in the appalling
emptiness of the moments when my depression was greatest I was forced to
the realization that I had no disinterested friend--not one--in whom I
could confide. Nancy had failed me; I had scarcely seen Tom Peters that
winter, and it was out of the question to go to him. For the third time
in my life, and in the greatest crisis of all, I was feeling the need of
Something, of some sustaining and impelling Power that must be presented
humanly, possessing sympathy and understanding and love.... I think I had
a glimpse just a pathetic glimpse--of what the Church might be of human
solidarity, comfort and support, of human tolerance, if stripped of the
superstition of an ancient science. My tortures weren't of the flesh, but
of the mind. My mind was the sheep which had gone astray. Was there no
such thing, could there be no such thing as a human association that
might at the same time be a divine organism, a fold and a refuge for the
lost and divided minds? The source of all this trouble was social....

Then toward the end of that last campaign week, madness suddenly came
upon me. I know now how near the breaking point I was, but the immediate
cause of my "flying to pieces"--to use a vivid expression--was a speech
made by Guptill, one of the Citizens Union candidates for alderman, a
young man of a radical type not uncommon in these days, though new to my
experience: an educated man in the ultra-radical sense, yet lacking poise
and perspective, with a certain brilliance and assurance. He was a
journalist, a correspondent of some Eastern newspapers and periodicals.
In this speech, which was reported to me--for it did not get into the
newspapers--I was the particular object of his attack. Men of my kind,
and not the Judd Jasons (for whom there was some excuse) were the least
dispensable tools of the capitalists, the greatest menace to
civilization. We were absolutely lacking in