On board the canal boat.
One day the boat came to a lock the same time as another boat, and the crews of the two vessels were about to fight for the first turn, when James spoke out boldly, and declared that the right belonged to the other boat, and that it should precede them. The captain was so struck with his cousin's manly defence of the right, that he ordered his men to give way. A fight was prevented, and fair play was given to the first comers. Some of the men in his own crew called him a coward, but that had no effect on James. He had long ago settled in his own mind that the greatest coward was the one who did not dare to do right.
Not long afterwards James offended one of the men, who at once set upon him. To save himself, James knocked the man down. All the men at once called upon James to pitch into him while he was on the ground. But James replied that he never struck a man when he was down. This was a new idea to the men, who had called him a coward because he would not fight for that which did not belong to him. Ever afterwards they regarded him with respect. Even they, rough and brutal as they were, could appreciate the generous spirit which prompted such noble actions.
One of the boatmen, named Harry Brown, was a good-hearted fellow, who took a great fancy to James. This man was, however, so very fond of drink, that he was always getting into trouble. James tried to persuade Harry to give up drinking, and the man listened willingly to the kind advice which he found so hard to follow. When speaking of James to one of the crew, Harry said, "Jim is a great fellow. I should like to see what sort of a man he will make. The way he rakes me down on whisky, tobacco, and swearing is a caution, and he does not say a word that is not true. I like him, though. I always like a man to show his colours."
All through life it was the same. No matter where he was, or in what circumstances he was placed, James Garfield always showed his colours, and he was never afraid to nail them to the mast.
Therefore the ignorant, drunken crew not only respected the lad who so boldly reproved them, but boasted of the companionship of one so unlike themselves. Said the steersman to the bowman of another boat, "We have a fellow in our crew who never drinks, smokes, chews, swears, nor fights; but he's a jolly good fellow, strong as a lion, could lick any of us if he has a mind to, and a first-rate worker. I never saw such a boy." Both captain and crew agreed that James was a peacemaker, and that he carried out his purpose without making enemies. Thorough and prompt in everything, and unwilling to be a party to any wrong-doing, he was regarded as a model worthy of imitation by all who knew him.
During the few months that he was on the canal boat, James fell into the water fourteen times. The last time nearly cost him his life. It was a dark and rainy night, and no one saw him jerked into the water. The boat swept on, and just as he began to despair of receiving any aid, his hand caught a rope in the darkness, and he drew himself into a place of safety. He found that the rope that had served his purpose had held fast by catching in a crevice on the edge of the deck. That was all that had come between him and death. Never had James had such serious thoughts in his mind as then, when he saw the rope and how it had saved him.
At once he thought of his praying mother, and the over-ruling Providence in which she so firmly believed. And at that moment he made up his mind to leave the canal boat, and return to his home.
A few weeks afterwards, James was attacked by ague, and he decided to go at once. It was eleven o'clock at night when he reached the house. Looking through the window, he saw his mother by the light of the fire. She was on her knees. Listening for a moment, he heard the words that fell from her lips. She was praying for him. A moment later, mother and son, once more reunited, were sobbing in each other's arms. Then James told his mother all about his life on the canal, and how God had preserved him almost by a miracle from drowning. After that he went to bed, and next day was found to be so ill that he was laid up for several weeks.
During that period Mrs. Garfield often spoke to James about his future, and he agreed with his mother, that if God saved his life on that night, He must have saved him for something. Then she brought her son under the influence of the teacher of their school, who was preparing to be a minister, and he soon showed James that the difference between a scholar and a sailor is the difference between somebody and nobody.
James decided to continue his education. That was the turning-point in his life. His mother knew that, having once said, "I will go to school," he would keep his word, and from that time she was satisfied.
CHAPTER XI.
STRIKING OUT A NEW LINE.
James decides to attend a College—He obtains Employment whereby to pay his Fees—Looking Upward.
In the life of every strong youth there comes a time when the manhood within him awakens to a consciousness of its proper powers. Such a moment had come in the life of young Garfield. His best friends had striven hard to awaken his slumbering ambition; even the companions of the towpath and of the woodyard had spoken with regret of the apparent waste of such abilities as he had shown; while his mother, who had been the first to perceive his talents, never ceased to urge her boy to fit himself for an honourable and useful calling.
All this advice, however, seemed to be thrown away on the strong-willed youth, until that moment when the Spirit of God laid hold of him. Then, as if a lamp had been lit in the empty house, his whole nature was transfigured. He was still the same sturdy, happy, self-reliant lad; but he was also a youth with a purpose in life. He no longer allowed passing fancies to rule his conduct, but, fixing his eye upon one goal, he began splendidly to push his way towards the prize upon which he had set his heart.
With a natural shrewdness, he saw at once that a man without culture and mental training could not climb high on the ladder of life. He saw that knowledge was the one key which opened the door to power in America, and with characteristic energy he set himself to seek that key.
The story of Garfield's attempts to gain an education forms one of the most romantic portions of his history. At first the height of his ambition was to attend a little Western college called Geauga Seminary, a school where about a hundred youths and maidens were gathered, under the auspices of the Free-will Baptist denomination, at the town of Chester in the State of Ohio.
Garfield, accompanied by two cousins, arrived at Geauga Seminary on March 5, 1849. It was perhaps the most important moment of his life, when the big, awkward, ill-dressed boy crossed the threshold of that humble college, and began to tread the path that was to lead straight on to one of the highest places of dignity on earth.
He and his companions hired a room, and with but a little in money, a sack or two of provisions, some pots and pans, and an old school-book, began their simple college course.
Garfield's plans to make his money last as long as possible were amazing. He began with about two pounds, his dear mother's savings, but text-books and school fees had already reduced his tiny fortune.
At first the lads did their own cooking, with indifferent success. Next they tried to live on bread and milk, but found it insufficient. Then Garfield discovered a local carpenter who had planks to plane, and in his spare time he found employment with him. Thus, working at his books in the daytime, and toiling at the bench at night, he plodded along. And yet, though his struggles were long and trying, there was no need for pity in the condition of the young student.
Probably no conceivable circumstances would have better developed the character of this backwoods scholar. His hardy limbs found real pleasure in work, which kept his body braced and healthy, while the active mind was exerting its great faculties in the keen pursuit of knowledge.
Some of the most interesting and instructive periods in the lives of the greatest men, both in this country and in America, have been found in just such conditions as these. Thoughtful English lads will never tire of hearing about those men, who, starting at the lowest point of mental knowledge and social opportunities, have yet contrived to fill in their day a large space in the world of letters. Take for example the stories of the three cobbler lads—Drew the historian, Cooper the reformer, and Carey the missionary, who, each in his own way, proved superior to poverty and all its attendant disadvantages, and rose, the one from his bench to a professorship in the London University, the other from a position equally lowly to a high place among the thinkers and writers of his day; and the third, leaving his lapstone to take up the pen of a translator, from cobbling boots in a back kitchen, went out to be the great master missionary of his age.
And just as in olden times God called His chief servants from the farmstead and the sheep-run, so even still the men of might have been those whose natures were made strong by youthful hardship and boyish battles.
The slave lad who became the Old World's greatest statesman, the shepherd boy who became its noblest King, and the young farmer who stood among its mightiest prophets, are but the types and forerunners of the Luthers and Lincolns and Garfields of more modern days.
Garfield, when once his eyes were opened, was quick enough to see that no boy could possibly succeed in life while he remained in ignorance. He said over and over again, "Mother, I must have an education"; and, having made up his mind to this, he set himself to secure it in the only possible way.
No false pride hindered him, no difficulties drove him back. He knew that he would have to begin at the bottom, and he knew also that he would have to work his way, every inch of the long journey.
One of his own wise sayings was this: "Poverty is uncomfortable, as I can testify; but, nine times out of ten, the best thing that can happen to a young man is to be tossed overboard, and compelled to sink or swim for himself. In all my acquaintance, I never knew a man to be drowned who was worth saving." No man illustrated his own words better than James Garfield.
"Labour is glory!—the flying cloud lightens;
Only the waving wing changes and brightens;
Idle hearts only the dark future frightens;
Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in tune."
CHAPTER XII.
TEACHING AND LEARNING.
First Term at College—The Pleasure of real Success—James Garfield meets his Wife—He applies for a Schoolmastership—A Generous Offer.
It is sometimes said that education spoils lads for hard work. As a teacher in after years, Garfield had often to argue this point with the fathers of his pupils, who feared lest the college should unfit their boys for the farm and the forest. But better than any argument was his own example.
His first duty on returning home from school was to build his mother a new barn. "It spoils some boys to go to school," said his brother Thomas at the beginning of the first vacation, but it had not spoiled James Garfield.
With his brother's help, he built the barn, and then set off to find work among the neighbouring farmers. Haymaking occupied him for several weeks, then a
[Transcriber's note: pages 81 and 82 missing.]
It was this moral courage which gave Garfield his great influence over his companions all through life. And when, after his second term at Geauga; he felt himself able to undertake the charge of one of the winter schools, which were started for small settlers' children, it was this quality, above all others, which made him a successful teacher.
He finished his second term at the top of his class. His mental powers were now thoroughly awakened, his mind was quick, his memory retentive, and he soon out-distanced all competitors. Every evening during the session he had found his way into the carpenter's shop, and with such results, that he finished the term in good health, without debt, and with nearly a pound in his pocket.
Now he was resolved to try his hand at "keeping school." But at first he had some difficulty in finding a school to keep. His youthful appearance frightened the managers at one place; they did not want "a boy to teach at their school." His second and third applications were too late; the vacancies were filled up. At the next place he was even more discouraged, for, said the manager, "We had one fellow from Geauga Seminary, and he made such a botch of it, that we don't want another."
As frequently happens, the opportunity came just when hope was lowest. He reached home thoroughly discouraged with these repeated refusals, and almost too hopeless to respond to his mother's kindly, cheerful words. But there was a purpose in all this apparent failure. At his own door lay the task which was to try the metal in the man, and it was here that young Garfield was to prove the master spirit that was in him.
At a place close by, called The Ledge, was a school without a teacher. And next morning one of the members of the committee of management came over to offer the post of master to young Garfield.
James was eager enough to secure a school, yet he hesitated to accept this offer. The Ledge was a district notorious for the roughness of its inhabitants, and for the unruly character of its young people. Besides, many of the youths in this school were old acquaintances of Garfield, and the young teacher naturally shrank from undertaking such a charge.
After duly considering the matter, however, Garfield accepted the post. His pupils were the sons and daughters of the neighbouring farmers, and many of them were quite grown up. They worked on the farm in the summer, and then attended school for a few months in the winter.
Garfield, of course, knew well enough that while among such a class there were a few like himself, anxious to get an education, a still larger number were quite indifferent, and looked upon the school as a place for unbridled fun. Two previous masters they had already driven out, and the committee had experienced as much difficulty in procuring a master, as Garfield had found in securing a school.
James feared that his scholars, knowing so much of his early history, would be likely to hold both his scholarship and his character somewhat lightly. He found, however, that this acquaintance was really his best recommendation.
His manly, straightforward character had an attraction for them; his skill and strength as an athlete, and his known courage, ensured him the respect even of the most turbulent among his scholars. The lads felt that their master was a boy who was making his way in life; they knew that he was no mere bookworm, but one of themselves, only stronger and abler.
His shrewd native wit saved him from many a mistake. He was prudent and firm, ready and resourceful, and his sharp tongue was a weapon they feared even more than his heavy hand. His wildest scholars admired him; while his sympathy with those pupils who, like himself, possessed no advantages save such as could be gained by their own hands, endeared him to the more thoughtful.
Thus, when his first season as a teacher was ended, he returned home with the reputation of one of the most successful common schoolmasters in the country.
CHAPTER XIII.
FINDING FRIENDS.
The Young Janitor at Hiram Institute—Personal Appearance at this time—Teaching and Preaching—The Tailor of Troy—The Beginning of the Civil War.
James Garfield attended the Geauga Seminary three years in succession. During his second and third vacations he acted as master in some of the log-schools in his native county.
Then, at the age of twenty, he went from teaching school to sweeping the college floor at Hiram Institute. Here, besides gaining a considerable step in his education, Garfield began to exercise his gifts as a speaker. The debating society of his college found in him its most fluent disputant, and the college became immensely proud of the promising youth, whose reputation as a ready and effective speaker was spreading far and wide.
In two ways he found outlet and exercise for the more generous instincts of his nature—in preaching the Gospel and in denouncing slavery. Even as early as this, the great struggle that was fated to bathe his nation in blood and fire was looming near, and the nobler among the young men of the country were unconsciously preparing to play their great parts in the awful civil war.
On entering Hiram Institute, Garfield was too poor to pay the ordinary fees. He had applied, therefore, for the post of janitor, and his duties were to sweep the rooms and ring the bell. He held this office for one year, and during the whole of that time it was said that never once did his bell ring behind the time.
From the humble position of janitor he was promoted at the end of the session to the more honourable one of assistant tutor. It seemed as if his experience was to be a continual example of the possibility, and even the advantage in some respects, to a healthy lad, of combining great success in study with great industry in manual labour.
His pay as a teacher was little more than nominal, and it was still necessary that he should work to live, therefore he engaged his mornings and evenings, as at Geauga, to a local carpenter, and thus supported himself.
Such perseverance as this of course attracted the attention of both his fellow-students and his professors. By the former he was voted "a brick," by the latter he was mentally designated for a future professor and principal of the Institute; while in the minds of both young men and old there was a feeling, slowly shaping itself into a prophecy, that such ability and courage and character could have but one end, and that Garfield was destined to become President of the United States.
When he entered the Geauga Seminary, it was probably with no expectation of proceeding farther on the road of learning than the limited resources of that little country college could carry him. His success there had sent him on to the Hiram Institute, and now it was a matter of course that he should go to a university and take his degree. But once more the money difficulty faced him, and once more the devotion of one of the best brothers in the world opened the way. Thomas was doing fairly well as a farmer; he had saved a little money, and this he offered as a loan to his brother. James accepted the loan gladly; and, to secure his generous brother against loss in case of his own death, he insured his life for one hundred pounds.
Garfield had acquired none of the outward graces of fashionable young men when he entered upon his career at Williams' University. He was tall, big-limbed, and rather lanky. His garments were of the homeliest manufacture, and his speech was somewhat broad and provincial. In mental stature, however,—in scholarship and reading and judgment,—he was a man, every inch of him. His fine face and magnificent head and sparkling eyes gave promise of rare powers, and once more, and with perfect ease, he took his place in the front rank of his fellow-students.
Here, as at each stage in his eventful life, young Garfield proved that every person must decide for himself the amount of respect that is really due to him from his companions.
No one could have entered college with a more homely appearance than Garfield. His rustic manners and still more rustic dress invited criticism among the smart young men of his college, yet because he was by nature a gentleman, he was treated from the first as such, by both teachers and students alike.
His vacations, as before, were spent in teaching, and his Sabbaths in preaching. In this latter office he acquitted himself so well, that it became quite an accepted opinion that he was to become a minister. This was one mark of the high estimation in which he was held, but there were others besides. The position of teacher in a high school, at the handsome salary of two hundred and fifty pounds, was offered him at this time. The offer, however, was declined, for the reason that it would prevent him taking his degree, and thus interfere with his plans in life.
His ambition was a very noble one. He wished, he said, to take a degree, to win, if possible, a name for scholarship; and then to go back to the modest salary and the limited sphere of the Hiram Institute, and thus help the humble college which had done so much for him.
Another illustration of the good name he had earned was shown in a smaller, but still very practical way. His brother Thomas's resources had unfortunately given out, and James was in urgent need of money to buy a suit of clothes. Careless as he was about his personal appearance, the state of his wardrobe had become a serious anxiety to him. One day a tailor in Troy sent for him, took his measure, and fitted him out, saying, "Go on with your education, and when you have some money for which you have no other use, pay me." This was a little matter in itself, but of great interest as showing the opinion which his neighbours had formed of the young man.
It was during his residence at Williams' that the country was thrown into excitement by Preston Brooks' attack upon Charles Sumner. Sumner had taken a prominent part in the growing desire of the Northern States of America for the abolition of slavery. He was a Senator of the United States, and a politician and orator of great influence.
One day, as he sat writing at his desk in the Senate House, two men came up to him. One of these, a Senator and a slaveholder from South Carolina, of the name of Brooks, was armed with a heavy stick. This ruffian attacked Sumner from behind, felled him with a blow, and then beat him as he lay upon the floor, leaving him almost dead. For this grievous offence a small fine was imposed upon Brooks, and the amount was promptly paid by his admiring constituents. The bully then resigned his seat, and was re-elected without opposition by the South as its spokesman, leader, and law-maker.
The news of this murderous attack spread like a flame through the land. In every State in the South it found a ready response in the sullen passions of the slave-owners, whose hatred for the Abolitionists it exactly expressed. Throughout the North it raised a nobler sentiment, and called forth a resolve that the system which placed millions of human beings under the absolute power of such men as this Brooks must be swept away. In both North and South that blow in the Senate House at Washington fell like a spark among the stubble: it set the nation on fire.
Among others who denounced the shameful deed was young Garfield. The students of his university called a public meeting to protest against the crime, and Garfield was the principal speaker. His address more than surprised his companions. All the passionate vehemence of his mighty heart was awakened by this outrage, and all the slumbering hatred which he had nursed since boyhood against the abominations of slavery sprang to his lips.
As his hot words swept over the audience, his fellow-students sat amazed. Great as had been their belief in his powers, they had hardly expected this, and they heard enough that night to convince them that one of the mighty men of the earth was rising up amongst them; and they went away from the meeting whispering, "We have heard great things to-day."
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FIRST BLOW.
Garfield's Power as a Platform Speaker—A Candidate for the Senate—His Election—Is Slavery right or wrong?—War inevitable—The Attack on Fort Sumter—The Civil War begun.
Garfield was twenty-six when he left Williams' University. He entered this college a raw student from a Western seminary; he left it a distinguished scholar, a graduate with honours, and a popular lay preacher and platform speaker.
In spite of many flattering offers, he had remained true to the Western Institute at Hiram. Before his return he was appointed teacher of ancient languages and literature there, and to this office he came full of enthusiasm.
The salary was only one hundred and fifty pounds a year, less by one-third than the sum offered him by the trustees of the high school at Troy, but that made no difference to Garfield. He brought to the duties of his profession a profound love for the school to which he himself was so greatly indebted, and an ardent desire to help young fellows as poor as himself. He found plenty of scope for his gifts, and he taught with such success that in two years' time he was appointed principal of the Institution.
This was the height of his ambition. Around him were some three hundred young people, sons and daughters of the great West, whose mental and spiritual training was in his hands. He regarded it as a sacred trust, and he solemnly devoted his life to the service of these Western students.
His ideal was a high one. The teacher, he felt, was a builder of the nation, and he resolved that no work should leave his hands that was ill planned or badly done.
The memory of his own early struggles made him especially mindful of the poorer scholars, and his keen eye was always on the look-out for young men of promise. Perfectly free in his intercourse with the students, the young principal maintained his influence by the nobility of his character and the steadiness of his aim. His only wish was to help his pupils. And they believed in him with a faith that in the years to come transformed his classes into battalions on the field of battle.
The slavery question was still exercising the minds of all parties when Garfield returned to Hiram. His power as a speaker made him an important ally to the Abolitionist party in his country, and his fame brought numberless demands for platform work. The Democratic party in the States had unhappily identified itself with slavery. Its leaders defended the system, its members voted in its favour; while the Republicans led the way for its abolition.
Soon after Garfield's return to Hiram, a well-known Democrat named Hart visited the town, to deliver an address on slavery. It was a clever speech, and made some impression, and the principal of the Institute was urged by the Republicans to reply. After some hesitation, Garfield did so. The answer was said to have been calmly given, but its grim facts of slavery horrors, its awful pictures of slavery evils, were so overwhelming, that his opponent was completely crushed.
This triumph naturally raised the demand that a man of such abilities should go into politics, and he was formally requested to become a candidate for the State Legislature. For a long time he refused. The interests of his school seemed so great, and his love for the work was so strong, that for a while nothing could move him.
In the year 1859, however, the appeals of his fellow-townsmen had grown so urgent, that he reluctantly became a candidate for the Senate of the State of Ohio. He had held back until the trustees of the Institute and his fellow-teachers joined their entreaties with the townsmen, and offered during his absence to do double duty in the school to release him for the public service. Greatly touched by these generous offers, Garfield at length consented, and was at once nominated a candidate to the parliament of his native State.
Though he had been slow to accept nomination, he did not hold back when once the battle had begun, and some few who looked with doubt on his youth and inexperience soon found that they had in their midst a bold though prudent leader. He won the seat by a large majority, and entered the Senate in the month of January 1860.
The United States of America consisted then of thirty-eight States and ten Territories. Each State is governed by its own parliament, which consists of a House of Senate and a House of Representatives. The whole of these States and Territories are again united under a Federal Government, at the head of which is the President of the United States. Each State sends to the Federal Government two Senators and from one to thirty Representatives, according to its population.
The State of Ohio, in whose Senate Garfield took his seat for the first time, is considerably larger than Ireland, and contains a more numerous population. It was organised into a State and admitted into the Union in 1803. Its population then was less than fifty thousand. Twenty years afterwards it had become ten times as great, and at the time of Garfield's election to its Senate, numbered nearly two and a half millions. Garfield had won his spurs as a politician in the discussion of the slavery question, and very soon he was called to give practical form to his opinions. For years there had been a conviction among many of the people of the Northern States that slavery was wrong, that it was a crime against man and a sin against God. The Southern States where slavery existed defended the institution without shame and without fear. They bitterly resented any discussion of the subject by the North, and they took effectual means to suppress any adverse opinions in the South.
In the very year of Garfield's election, nearly a thousand white persons in the slave States were robbed, whipped, imprisoned, tarred and feathered, or murdered, on suspicion of sympathy with the slaves.
New and bitter laws were passed in the Southern States against teaching or helping the negroes; and in several States it was calmly proposed to deprive the free blacks also of their liberty, to sell them back into bondage in order to raise money for the support of the elementary schools. In defiance of the laws of the Federal Government, the slave trade also was reintroduced, and negroes stolen from the West Coast of Africa were once more landed and sold into slavery.
