Pine to Potomac

by E. K. Cressey

His life at college was a comparatively quiet one. He never appeared upon a public exhibition, although he entered the societies, and took part in debates, read essays, contributed to the college paper, and delivered orations.

He was rather retiring in his disposition, and sought rather to be a worshiper at the shrine of knowledge, than as is so often the case, be worshiped.

The quiet reticence and reserve referred to may strike some, owing to their knowledge of his dashing brilliancy of later years. But as a surprise, the modest, unobtrusive habit was happily conducive to study, and served as a guard against many of the intrusions of a student’s life. While kind and affable, he was not of the hail-fellow-well-met order. But he was not a recluse,—no monk with monkish ways. He was a student, through and through, and he loved study; it satisfied him and served his aspirations.

He was a boy no longer; he had come to himself, to self-consciousness; a consciousness of his powers, to a recognition of his own personal identity. Manhood was fast coming on him; he was out of childhood. It was a new world in thought to him, and life at college a new world in fact. He was respected and honored and trusted now, in a sense different from being loved and petted and cared for at home. There was not so much praise, but more power in it. He was on his own responsibility now, and must rely largely upon his own resources. Manliness was the needful quality. It was everywhere in demand. At study it was the prelude to victory; in the recitation-room it was the well-poised harbinger of success, and in association with others it always won. This was just the quality that those who loved him had sought to develop in him, and they had not failed. He would take hold of the hardest task with a marvelous energy of resolve. His will was a strong feature of his personality. It was an element of power that served him now. He had reached a long-sought height and was pushing on.

Good teachers are not long in finding good scholars in a new class. They look for them as a miner watches for gold, and prize them as highly. There was such a teacher in the faculty at Washington, and to Professor Murray Mr. Blaine feels a deep and lasting debt of gratitude.

Like all good teachers, he felt the dignity and power of his profession. He could help the weakest into strength, and put a window in the darkest mind by his varied questionings, illustrations, suggestions, and explanations. He was quiet, but forceful, genial, but severe if laziness or wanton disregard showed its hydra head. In his own peculiar way, by virtue of an immense personality, he would light up and enthuse a whole class-room.

The Professor found in young Blaine a pupil to his mind, and James found in the teacher just the man of his heart. He learned to love him. A genuine teacher can incarnate himself in his pupils, just as Napoleon seemed to reproduce himself in his armies, firing them with his spirit, arming them with his purpose, so that they would move with the solid impetuosity of his own daring, scaling the Alps, triumphing at Austerlitz, until they came to look, and breathe, and act him out long after; but Professor Murray was training men and citizens of the great Republic. His was a solemn, sacred work, of grave responsibility. It was worthy of life and manhood’s strength and prime, as the great ideals which burned in the heat of his glowing life fully assured him.

To sit in such a light, to dwell in such a presence, was to be lead over the fields of conquest by the hand of Alexander after he had conquered the world. No wonder this man is loved and honored, and his memory cherished sacredly.

Outside of the regular college course, Mr. Blaine read through the New Testament in Greek with him three times. This was a Sunday Bible-class exercise, and shows how deeply his mind became imbued with the truths of the Christian religion, which have since made him a devoted member of the Congregational Church in Augusta, Maine.

James was no book-worm in college. He was a severe, close student. This was his chief business there. He was on his honor, and loved his work, and so did it well.