In the library of Williams College he made his first acquaintance with Shakespeare, and we can understand what a revelation his works must have been to the aspiring youth. He had abstained from reading fiction, doubting whether it was profitable, since the early days when with a thrill of boyish excitement he read "Sinbad the Sailor" and Marryatt's novels. After a while his views as to the utility of fiction changed. He found that his mind was suffering from the solid food to which it was restricted, and he began to make incursions into the realm of poetry and fiction with excellent results. He usually limited this kind of reading, and did not neglect for the fascination of romance those more solid works which should form the staple of a young man's reading.

It is well known that among poets Tennyson was his favorite, so that in after years, when at fifteen minutes' notice, on the first anniversary of Lincoln's a.s.sa.s.sination, he was called upon to move an adjournment of the House, as a mark of respect to the martyred President, he was able from memory to quote in his brief speech, as applicable to Lincoln, the poet's description of some

"Divinely gifted man, Whose life in low estate began, And on a simple village green, Who breaks his birth's invidious bars, And grasped the skirts of happy chance, And b.r.e.a.s.t.s the blows of circ.u.mstance, And grapples with his evil stars; Who makes by force his merit known, And lives to clutch the golden keys To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne; And moving up from high to higher, Becomes on Fortune's crowning slope The pillar of a people's hope, The center of a world's desire."

I am only repeating the remark made by many when I call attention to the fitness of this description to Garfield himself.

Our young student was fortunate in possessing a most retentive memory.

What he liked, especially in the works of his favorite poet, was so impressed upon his memory that he could recite extracts by the hour.

This will enable the reader to understand how thoroughly he studied, and how readily he mastered, those branches of knowledge to which his attention was drawn. When in after years in Congress some great public question came up, which required hard study, it was the custom of his party friends to leave Garfield to study it, with the knowledge that in due time he would be ready with a luminous exposition which would supply to them the place of individual study.

Young Garfield was anxious to learn the language of Goethe and Schiller, and embraced the opportunity afforded at college to enter upon the study of German. He was not content with a mere smattering, but learned it well enough to converse in it as well as to read it.

So most profitably the Junior year was spent, but unhappily James had spent all the money which he had brought with him. Should he leave college to earn more? Fortunately, this was not necessary. Thomas Garfield, always unselfishly devoted to the family, hoped to supply his younger brother with the necessary sum, in installments; but proving unable, his old friend, Dr. Robinson, came to his a.s.sistance.

"You can pay me when you are able, James," he said.

"If I live I will pay you, doctor. If I do not--"

He paused, for an idea struck him.

"I will insure my life for eight hundred dollars," he continued, "and place the policy in your hands. Then, whether I live or die, you will be secure."

"I do not require this, James," said the doctor kindly.

"Then I feel all the more under obligations to secure you in return for your generous confidence."

It was a sensible and business-like proposal, and the doctor a.s.sented.

The strong, vigorous young man had no difficulty in securing a policy from a reputable company, and went back to college at the commencement of the Senior year. I wish to add that the young man scrupulously repaid the good doctor's timely loan, for had he failed to do so, I could not have held him up to my young readers as in all respects a model.

There was published at Williams College, in Garfield's time, a magazine called the _Williams Quarterly_. To this the young man became a frequent contributor. In Gen. James S. Brisbin's campaign Life of Garfield, I find three of his poetic contributions quoted, two of which I will also transfer to my pages, as likely to possess some interest for my young reader. The first is called

"THE CHARGE OF THE TIGHT BRIGADE,"

and commences thus:

"Bottles to right of them, Bottles to left of them, Bottles in front of them, Fizzled and sundered; Ent'ring with shout and yell, Boldly they drank and well, They caught the Tartar then; _Oh, what a perfect sell!_ Sold--the half hundred!

Grinned all the dentals bare, Swung all their caps in air, Uncorking bottles there, Watching the Freshmen, while Every one wondered; Plunged in tobacco smoke, With many a desperate stroke, Dozens of bottles broke; Then they came back, but not, Not the half hundred!"

Lest from this merry squib, which doubtless celebrated some college prank, wrong conclusions should be drawn, I hasten to say that in college James Garfield neither drank nor smoked.

The next poem is rather long, but it possesses interest as a serious production of one whose name has become a household word. It is ent.i.tled

"MEMORY.

"'Tis beauteous night; the stars look brightly down Upon the earth, decked in her robe of snow.

No light gleams at the window save my own, Which gives its cheer to midnight and to me.

And now with noiseless step sweet Memory comes, And leads me gently through her twilight realms.

What poet's tuneful lyre has ever sung, Or delicatest pencil e'er portrayed The enchanted, shadowy land where Memory dwells?

It has its valleys, cheerless, lone, and drear, Dark-shaded by the lonely cypress tree.

And yet its sunlit mountain tops are bathed In heaven's own blue. Upon its craggy cliffs, Robed in the dreamy light of distant years, Are cl.u.s.tered joys serene of other days; Upon its gently sloping hillside's bank The weeping-willows o'er the sacred dust Of dear departed ones; and yet in that land, Where'er our footsteps fall upon the sh.o.r.e, They that were sleeping rise from out the dust Of death's long, silent years, and round us stand, As erst they did before the prison tomb Received their clay within its voiceless halls.

"The heavens that bend above that land are hung With clouds of various hues; some dark and chill, Surcharged with sorrow, cast their sombre shade Upon the sunny, joyous land below; Others are floating through the dreamy air, White as the falling snow, their margins tinged With gold and crimson hues; their shadows fall Upon the flowery meads and sunny slopes, Soft as the shadows of an angel's wing.

When the rough battle of the day is done, And evening's peace falls gently on the heart, I bound away across the noisy years, Unto the utmost verge of Memory's land, Where earth and sky in dreamy distance meet, And Memory dim with dark oblivion joins; Where woke the first remembered sounds that fell Upon the ear in childhood's early morn; And wandering thence along the rolling years, I see the shadow of my former self Gliding from childhood up to man's estate.

The path of youth winds down through many a vale, And on the brink of many a dread abyss, From out whose darkness comes no ray of light, Save that a phantom dances o'er the gulf, And beckons toward the verge. Again, the path Leads o'er a summit where the sunbeams fall; And thus, in light and shade, sunshine and gloom, Sorrow and joy, this life-path leads along."

During the year 1856 young Garfield was one of the editors of the college magazine, from which the above extracts are made. The hours spent upon his contributions to its pages were doubtless well spent.

Here, to use his own words, he learned "to hurl the lance and wield the sword and thus prepare for the conflict of life." More than one whose names have since become conspicuous contributed to it while under his charge. Among these were Professor Chadbourne, S.G.W. Benjamin, Horace E. Scudder, W.R. Dimmock, and John Savary. The last-named, now resident in Washington, has printed, since his old friend's death, a series of sonnets, from which I quote one:

"How many and how great concerns of state Lie at the mercy of the meanest things!

This man, the peer of presidents and kings; Nay, first among them, pa.s.sed through dangers gate In war unscathed, and perils out of date, To meet a fool whose pistol-shot yet rings Around the world, and at mere greatness flings The cruel sneer of destiny or fate!

Yet hath he made the fool fanatic foil To valor, patience, n.o.bleness, and wit!

Nor had the world known, but because of it, What virtues grow in suffering's sacred soil.

The shot which opened like a crack of h.e.l.l, Made all hearts stream with sacred pity's well And showed that unity in which we dwell."

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE Ca.n.a.l-BOY BECOMES A COLLEGE PRESIDENT.

During his second winter vacation a great temptation a.s.sailed James. It was not a temptation to do wrong. That he could easily have resisted.

I must explain.

At Prestenkill, a country village six miles from Troy, N.Y., the young student organized a writing school, to help defray his expenses. Having occasion to visit Troy, his interest in education led him to form an acquaintance with some of the teachers and directors of the public schools.

One of these gentlemen, while walking with him over the sloping sides of a hill overlooking the city, said: "Mr. Garfield, I have a proposition to make to you."

The student listened with interest.

"There is a vacancy in one of our public schools. We want an experienced teacher, and I am sure you will suit us. I offer you the place, with a salary of twelve hundred dollars a year. What do you say?"

The young man's heart beat for a moment with repressible excitement. It was a strong temptation. He was offered, deducting vacations, about one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, while heretofore his highest wages had been but eighteen dollars per month and board. Moreover, he could marry at once the young lady to whom he had been for years engaged.

He considered the offer a moment, and this was his answer:

"You are not Satan and I am not Jesus, but we are upon the mountain, and you have tempted me powerfully. I think I must say, 'Get thee behind me!' I am poor, and the salary would soon pay my debts and place me in a position of independence; but there are two objections. I could not accomplish my resolution to complete a college course, and should be crippled intellectually for life. Then, my roots are all fixed in Ohio, where people know me and I know them, and this transplanting might not succeed as well in the long run as to go back home and work for smaller pay."

So the young man decided adversely, and it looks as if his decision was a wise one. It is interesting to conjecture what would have been his future position had he left college and accepted the school then offered him. He might still have been a teacher, well known and of high repute, but of fame merely local, and without a thought of the brilliant destiny he had foregone.

So he went back to college, and in the summer of 1856 he graduated, carrying off the highest honor--the metaphysical oration. His cla.s.s was a brilliant one. Three became general officers during the rebellion--Garfield, Daviess, and Thompson. Rockwell's name is well known in official circles; Gilfillan is Treasurer of the United States.

There are others who fill prominent positions. In the cla.s.s above him was the late Hon. Phineas W. Hitchc.o.c.k, who for six years represented Nebraska in the United States Senate--like Garfield, the architect of his own fortunes.

"What are your plans, Garfield?" asked a cla.s.smate but a short time before graduation.

"I am going back to Ohio, to teach in the school where I prepared for college."