As he was quite uneducated, he determined
that I should not be. He had saved enough
to send me to Princeton College, and when I
was about fifteen I was set free from the
public schools. I never liked them. The last
I was at was the high school. As I had to
come down-town to get home, we used to
meet on Arch street the boys from the
grammar-school of the university, and there
were fights every week. In winter these
were most
frequent, because of the snow-
balling. A fellow had to take his share or be
marked as a deserter. I never saw any
personal good to be had out of a fight, but it
was better to fight than to be cobbed. That
means that two fellows hold you, and the
other fellows kick you with their bent knees.
It hurts.
I find just here that I am describing a
thing as if I were
writing for some other
people to see. I may as well go on that way.
After all, a man never can quite stand off
and look at himself as if he was the only
person
concerned. He must have an audience,
or make believe to have one, even if it
is only himself. Nor, on the whole, should I
be
unwilling, if it were safe, to let people
see how great
ability may be defeated by the
crankiness of fortune.
I may add here that a stone inside of a
snowball discourages the fellow it hits. But
neither our fellows nor the grammar-school
used stones in snowballs. I rather liked it.
If we had a row in the
springtime we all
threw stones, and here was one of those bits
of
stupid custom no man can understand;
because really a stone outside of a snowball
is much more serious than if it is mercifully
padded with snow. I felt it to be a
rise in life when I got out of the society of the
common boys who attended the high school.
When I was there a man by the name of
Dallas Bache was the head master. He had a
way of letting the boys attend to what he called
the
character of the school. Once I had to
lie to him about
taking another boy's ball.
He told my class that I had denied the charge,
and that he always took it for granted that a
boy spoke the truth. He knew well enough
what would happen. It did. After that I
was careful.
Princeton was then a little college, not
expensive, which was very well, as my father
had some difficulty to provide even the
moderate
amount needed.
I soon found that if I was to
associate with
the upper set of young men I needed money.
For some time I waited in vain. But in my
second year I discovered a small gold-mine, on
which I drew with a
moderation which shows
even thus early the strength of my
character.
I used to go home once a month for a
Sunday visit, and on these occasions I was often
able to remove from my aunt's big Bible a
five- or ten-dollar note, which
otherwise would
have been long
useless.
Now and then I utilized my opportunities
at Princeton. I very much desired certain
things like well-made clothes, and for these
I had to run in debt to a
tailor. When he
wanted pay, and threatened to send the bill
to my father, I borrowed from two or three
young Southerners; but at last, when they
became hard up, my aunt's uncounted hoard
proved a last
resource, or some rare chance
in a
neighboring room helped me out. I
never did look on this method as of permanent
usefulness, and it was only the temporary
folly of youth.
Whatever else the
pirate necessity appropriated,
I took no large
amount of education,
although I was fond of
reading, and especially
of novels, which are, I think, very
instructive to the young, especially the novels
of Smollett and Fielding.
There is, however, little need to dwell on
this part of my life. College students in
those days were only boys, and boys are very
strange animals. They have instincts. They
somehow get to know if a fellow does not
relate facts as they took place. I like to put
it that way, because, after all, the mode of
putting things is only one of the forms of
self-defense, and is less silly than the
ordinary wriggling methods which boys employ,
and which are generally
useless. I was rather
given to telling large stories just for the fun
of it and, I think, told them well. But somehow
I got the
reputation of not being strictly
definite, and when it was meant to indicate
this
belief they had an ill-mannered way of
informing you. This consisted in two or
three fellows
standing up and shuffling noisily
with their feet on the floor. When first I
heard this I asked
innocently what it meant,
and was told it was the noise of the bearers'
feet coming to take away Ananias. This was
considered a fine joke.
During my
junior year I became unpopular,
and as I was very
cautious, I cannot see
why. At last, being hard up, I got to be
foolishly
reckless. But why dwell on the
failures of immaturity?
The causes which led to my leaving Nassau
Hall were not, after all, the mischievous
outbreaks in which college lads indulge.
Indeed, I have never been
guilty of any of
those pieces of
wanton wickedness which
injure the feelings of others while they lead
to no useful result. When I left to return
home, I set myself
seriously to
reflect upon
the necessity of greater care in following out
my inclinations, and from that time forward
I have
steadily avoided,
whenever it was
possible, the
vulgar vice of directly possessing
myself of objects to which I could show no
legal title. My father was
indignant at the
results of my college
career; and, according
to my aunt, his shame and sorrow had some
effect in
shortening his life. My sister
believed my
account of the matter. It ended
in my being used for a year as an assistant
in the shop, and in being taught to ring bells
--a fine exercise, but not proper work for a
man of
refinement. My father died while
training his bell-ringers in the Oxford triple
bob--broke a blood-vessel somewhere. How
I could have caused that I do not see.
I was now about nineteen years old, and,
as I remember, a middle-sized, well-built
young fellow, with large eyes, a slight
mustache, and, I have been told, with very good
manners and a somewhat
humorous turn.
Besides these advantages, my
guardian held
in trust for me about two thousand dollars.
After some
consultation between us, it was
resolved that I should study medicine. This
conclusion was reached nine years before the
Rebellion broke out, and after we had settled,
for the sake of
economy, in Woodbury,
New Jersey. From this time I saw very little
of my deaf aunt or of Peninnah. I was resolute
to rise in the world, and not to be weighted
by relatives who were without my tastes and
my manners.
I set out for Philadelphia, with many good
counsels from my aunt and
guardian. I look
back upon this period as a turning-point of
my life. I had seen enough of the world
already to know that if you can succeed
without exciting
suspicion, it is by far the
pleasantest way; and I really believe that
if I had not been endowed with so fatal a
liking for all the good things of life I might
have lived along as reputably as most men.
This, however, is, and always has been, my
difficulty, and I suppose that I am not
responsible for the incidents to which it gave
rise. Most men have some ties in life, but I
have said I had none which held me. Peninnah
cried a good deal when we parted, and
this, I think, as I was still young, had a very
good effect in strengthening my
resolution to
do nothing which could get me into trouble.
The janitor of the college to which I went
directed me to a boarding-house, where I
engaged a small third-story room, which I
afterwards shared with Mr. Chaucer of Georgia.
He
pronounced it, as I remember, ``Jawjah.''
In this very
remarkable abode I spent the
next two winters, and finally graduated,
along with two hundred more, at the close
of my two years of study. I should previously
have been one year in a physician's
office as a student, but this
regulation was
very easily evaded. As to my studies, the
less said the better. I attended the quizzes,
as they call them, pretty closely, and, being
of a quick and retentive memory, was thus
enabled to
dispense with some of the six or
seven lectures a day which duller men found
it necessary to follow.
Dissecting struck me as a rather nasty
business for a gentleman, and on this
account I did just as little as was absolutely
essential. In fact, if a man took his tickets
and paid the dissection fees, nobody troubled
himself as to whether or not he did any more
than this. A like evil existed at the
graduation: whether you squeezed through or
passed with credit was a thing which was