isions--and what realizations have
come! And it interested me profoundly not long ago, when Dr. Conwell,
talking of the university, unexpectedly remarked that he would like to
see such institutions scattered throughout every state in the Union.
"All carried on at slight expense to the students and at hours to suit
all sorts of working men and women," he added, after a pause; and then,
abruptly, "I should like to see the possibility of higher education
offered to every one in the United States who works for a living."

There was something superb in the very imagining of such a nation-wide
system. But I did not ask whether or not he had planned any details
for such an effort. I knew that thus far it might only be one of his
dreams--but I also knew that his dreams had a way of becoming realities.
I had a fleeting glimpse of his soaring vision. It was amazing to find
a man of more than three-score and ten thus dreaming of more worlds
to conquer. And I thought, what could the world have accomplished if
Methuselah had been a Conwell!--or, far better, what wonders could be
accomplished if Conwell could but be a Methuselah!

He has all his life been a great traveler. He is a man who sees vividly
and who can describe vividly. Yet often his letters, even from places of
the most profound interest, are mostly concerned with affairs back home.
It is not that he does not feel, and feel intensely, the interest of
what he is visiting, but that his tremendous earnestness keeps him
always concerned about his work at home. There could be no stronger
example than what I noticed in a letter he wrote from Jerusalem. "I am
in Jerusalem! And here at Gethsemane and at the Tomb of Christ"--reading
thus far, one expects that any man, and especially a minister, is sure
to say something regarding the associations of the place and the effect
of these associations on his mind; but Conwell is always the man who
is different--"And here at Gethsemane and at the Tomb of Christ, I pray
especially for the Temple University." That is Conwellism!

That he founded a hospital--a work in itself great enough for even a
great life is but one among the striking incidents of his career. And it
came about through perfect naturalness. For he came to know, through his
pastoral work and through his growing acquaintance with the needs of
the city, that there was a vast amount of suffering and wretchedness and
anguish, because of the inability of the existing hospitals