I soon learned that I had found in the East what I had found in Evangelical University, a professional school that was willing to bend to the service of the ambitious but unprepared student. But in the Seminary there was more point and breadth to the teaching; the studies were more thorough, intellectually more satisfying; so, with Burner and with many others who, like myself, had never been to college, I began the exciting adventure into disciplined truth. It was rich fare to which I was invited, during that first year: the tough meat, Hebrew, which even moderately digested, meant exegetical strength in Old Testament lore, the tenderer portions of Greek which nourished one’s New Testament appetite; entrées of psychology and philosophy; well-baked and spiced Church history, and a various dessert of special lectures comprising every viand from the art of preaching to nerve-stirring appreciations of social movements. The social life of Evangelical University had been so narrow that I was ready to appreciate the broadness of that permitted us in the Seminary. The professors had us in their homes for teas and dinners. The intimate touch between us and our teachers formed part of the discipline of those years. There was hardly any sign of that academic aloofness which I had always supposed to be characteristic of eastern institutions. I ran into the room of a sick classmate one Saturday morning, only to find him being nursed by the professor of theology. The utmost freedom of thought was given us in the speculations of the classrooms. It was an atmosphere where bigotry and dogmatism could not live overnight. Our lives, by being linked to that of the Seminary, began to be linked to the life of the city; for the churches and the people showed us many thoughtful courtesies, took us into their circles, and made many winter evenings merry and profitable.