As the discussion waned Huntington made his dramatic play. Each member present was handed a copy of the "Areopagitica," on the fly-leaf of which Hamlen had written his autograph.
"A gift from our guest," Huntington explained; "and each copy is inscribed by the master-printer of the Island Press."
The silence which followed heightened the effect of Huntington's coup, and Hamlen felt the blood rushing to his face. Huntington watched the proceedings with evident relish, and as comprehension followed surprise in the minds of his fellow-members he held his glass aloft.
"To the health, gentlemen, of Philip Hamlen, our master-printer, an American, thank God, who knows how to preserve that art preservative of all arts!"
It was the first triumph Hamlen had ever tasted, and as Huntington watched his face he feared that in the desire to give him the confidence of approval he had over-estimated his friend's physical strength. But joy never kills, and the first weakness was conquered by the necessity of living up to the position which had been thrust upon him. He responded bravely, and Huntington smiled contentedly as he saw still another barrier broken down between Philip Hamlen and the world he believed to be against him. On their way home no word was spoken in the motor-car, but when safe within the retreat of the library, which Hamlen had learned to love, the pent-up emotion burst forth.
"Then I have done something after all!" he cried. "My life has not been all a mistake! Heaven knows what a mess I've made of it, but at least there is something saved out of the wreck? You think they meant it, don't you, Huntington?" he asked beseechingly, and he found his answer in the beaming countenance of his friend. "I had no idea it would mean so much, that so wonderful an experience as I had to-night could ever come to me. Even now I can't understand it. Those little books are only expressions of myself; I made them merely for personal gratification."
"In doing so, my friend, you gave yourself to us; and more than that no man can do!"
The wonderful weeks went by, filled with a bewildering series of unusual experiences for Hamlen and of continuing satisfaction to Huntington. Philip unfolded to him day by day the various elements which went to make the new Harvard spirit, and Huntington supplemented the boy's efforts by keeping his guest in touch with the graduate activities centered in and reaching their climax in the building of the "Home of the Harvard Club" in Boston, dedicated as "the tomb of Harvard indifference." Hamlen saw the freshmen segregated in their own dormitories, and forced to become acquainted one with another, and he realized what it would have meant to him at a similar time in his life if heads wiser than his own had compelled him to show himself to his classmates. He stood within the massive Stadium, he went to a mass-meeting at the Harvard Union, he followed the crew on the Charles in the launch "John Harvard," proud that Philip, his namesake, had won a place in the boat. He spent many hours at the Harvard Club with Huntington, watching the democracy which means unity, and the unity which means fellowship. For the first time he felt a pride to be a part of it, for the first time his degree stood to him as something more than what he learned from books. Philip was to row against Yale, and he felt that he himself, at last, was to take part in an intercollegiate contest, once the ambition of his life. He was no longer a man without a college, but was one of that great brotherhood which recognizes its heritage, and stands ready to live up to the responsibilities this heritage entails.