More than once I went a considerable distance out of my way
to pass the corner of Lexington Avenue and Twenty-third Street,
where that edifice stood. I would pause and gaze at its red,
ivy-clad walls, mysterious high windows, humble spires; I would
stand watching the students on the campus and around the great
doors, and go my way, with a heart full of reverence, envy, and
hope, with a heart full of quiet ecstasy
It was not merely a place in which I was to fit myself for the battle
of life, nor merely one in which I was going to acquire knowledge.
It was a symbol of spiritual promotion as well. University-bred
people were the real nobility of the world. A college diploma was
a certificate of moral as well as intellectual aristocracy
My old religion had gradually fallen to pieces, and if its place was
taken by something else, if there was something that appealed to
the better man in me, to what was purest in my thoughts and most
sacred in my emotions, that something was the red, church-like
structure on the southeast corner of Lexington Avenue and
Twenty-third Street
It was the synagogue of my new life.
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