My college days

0 L LEG E leWS

m

COLLEGE DAYS

BY

EGBERT TOMES

NEW YORK

HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE

1 880

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by

HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Preparing for College. — The Grammar-school of Columbia
College. — Rector Ogilby. — Discharge. — New Rector. —
Dignity and Severity. — Pedantic Jocularity. — Elephantine
Banter. — Its Victims. — Anthon. — Author. — Scholar. —
Teacher. — His Personal Appearance and Manner. —

Me- and the Higher Mathematics. — His Successor. —

A Slashing Teacher. — My Destiny. — An Episcopal Strong-
hold.— Examination for College Page 9

. CHAPTER II.

Travelling to Hartford. — First Sight of College. — Admis-
sion.— A Dungeon. — College Precincts. — A Scientific
Irishman. — The Neighborhood. — The Boarding-houses. —
The Hog River. — The City. — The Students. — Religiosi.
— The Independents. — The Roysterers. — Old Traditions.
— Southern Students. — The Southern Society. — Character
of Southern Students 24

CHAPTER III.

My Class. — Standing. — Classmates. — Brilliant Writers. —
Bishop Williams. — Archbishop Bayley. — Hon. John Bige-
lo\v. — Literary Genius. — Libraries.— Book Appropriation.

4 CONTENTS.

— Sham Professor. — Miscellaneous Talent. — A Brief Val-
edictory Tage 37

CHAPTER IV.

The Fuculty. — The Sham Professors. — The Real Teachers.
— Sleepy David.— Old Caloric.— The President. — High
Jinks. — A Change. — The New President. — Holland. —
Professor Jim. — Habits of Exercise. — Vacations. — Chol-
era in New York. — A Speech of Henry Clay. — Governor
Ellsworth. — Isaac Toucey. — Gideon Welles. — Hunger-
,ford, the Lawyer 30

CHAPTER V.

Graduation. — An old Diploma. — Its 'Suggestions. — Choice
of Profession. — The Bells and Mason Good's Works. —
Enter University of Pennsylvania. — Professor Homer. —
The Mysteries and Horrors of Dissecting-room. — Dr. Hare.
— Chemical Displays. — Surgery at Blocksley Hospital.
— Professor Gibson. — Oilier Professors. — Doctors made
Easy. — Passage to Liverpool. — A Jolly Voyage. — Dr.
Hawks. — Arrival in Liverpool. — Departure for Edin-
burgh 62

CHAPTER VI.

Arrival in Edinburgh. — The Summer Session at the Univer-
sity.— My First Quarters. — A Disorderly Household. —
Historical, Romantic, and Personal Associations. — The
High Street of Edinburgh. — The Little Chapel. — Alison
on "Taste." — Mackay the Actor. — Holyrood Palace. —
Arthur's Seat and Salisbury Crag. — Heriot's Hospital. —
The Meadows. — The Links and Golfers. — Convent. — The
Site of the College. —Murder of Darnley. — The Univer-
sity and its Associations 73

CONTENTS. 5

CHAPTER VII.

Contrasts. — Hume's Monument. — Ambrose's. — Scott's and
Hume's Houses. — Jeffrey at Home and at Court. — Mur-
chiston. — Hawthornden. — Dr. Chalmers. — Guthrie. — A
Visit from Dr. Hawks. — His Companion. — Sydney Smith.
— Surgeon's Square. — Burke and Hare. — Dr. Knox. —
Allen Thompson. — "Never Touched the Ground." — Por-
trait of Knox. — De Quincey and his Daughter. — Macau-
lay. — Dr. Abercrombie Page 82

CHAPTER VII I.

My First Invitation. — A Jolly Dinner. — Edinburgh Conviv-
iality.— A Surprise. — Religious Topics. — J. Shank More.
— Edinburgh Society. — A Disputed Child. — Mr. Craig. —
Bishop Ravenscroft. — From Slave-whip to Crosier. — A
Change of Quarters. — Mr. Ainslie. — A Friend of Burns. —
Clarinda. — A Genial Neighbor. — -Marriage at Three-score-
and-ten. — A Festival. — Campbell the Poet in the Chair. —
Genius in Eclipse. — Professor Blackie in Youth . . 96

CHAPTER IX.

The Winter Session. — Rush of Students. — The Classes. —
Students from Everywhere. — The Full-blooded Negro. —

Social Inversion. — Distinguished Students. — W of

Nottingham. — G of Newcastle. — Charles Maitland. —

Faith in Chemistry. — Samuel Brown. — Poet and Philoso-
pher.— Unity of Matter. — Professor Anderson of Glas-
gow 110

CHAPTER X.

A Band of Revellers. — Making a Night of it. — The Two
Brothers R . — Their History. — A Mother, and not a

6 CONTENTS.

Mother.— A Victim to Slavery. —The Third Brother's

Fate. — Description of the K 's.— The Eldest R .

— A Fancy Bull. — The End of the Eldest. — The Younger

R in Paris. — Incidents of his Career. — Adventures

in England. — His Return to the United States.— Disap-
pearance Page 123

CHAPTER XI.

The Brothers F . — An American Claimant for a Scotch

Title. — A Retired and Happy Life. — Sudden Aspirations.
— Lord Lovat. — Devotion of a Clan. — A Long Suit in Ed-
inburgh.— Luxury and the Jews. — A Day of Reckoning.
— An Adverse Decision. — Family Ruin. — The Eldest Son.
— The Survivors of a Wreck. — Another American Claim-
ant.— Precocious Benevolence. — A Triumph. — Final Re-
sult 134

CHAPTER XII.

General Disunion of Students. — A Remarkable Exception.
— Political Unanimity. — Prevalence of Toryism. — Influ-
ence of Tory Professors. — Professor Wilson's Example
and Teachings. — Royal Medical Society. — Its Traditions.
— Sir James Mackintosh. — The Brunonian Controversy.
— Speculative Society. — Botanical and Geological Tours.
— Exercises. — New Haven. — Huntsmen and Horsemen. —
The Theatre. — Church Intolerance. — Studies for a De-
gree.— Examinations. — Defence of Thesis. — An Exami-
nation Passed. — The Three Munros . . . '. . 144

CHAPTER XIII.

Munro Tertius. — A Nonchalant Professor. — Catting Cards.
— A Personal Description. — Strange Illustration of Filial
Affection. — First Sight of Pickwick. — A Dignified Pro-

CONTENTS. 7

fessor. — Hope. — Resplendent Demonstrations. — Kemp. —
Compression of Gases. — A Great Chemical Feat. — Antic-
ipation of Modern Discovery. — The Eclipse of a Man of
Genius Page 158

CHAPTER XIV.

Professor Alison.— The Good Physician. — "Our Doctor."
— Robust and Gentle. — Sir Robert Christison. — Hard
Worker. — Powers of Endurance. — Personal Appearance.
— Sir William Hamilton. — Author of "Cyril Thornton."
— Hundreds of Skulls. — A Death-blow to Phrenology. —
Professor Wilson. — His Works. — Personal Appearance.
— As a Lecturer. — The Dogs. — How a Professor was
Appointed. — Pillans 169

CHAPTER XV.

Close of Winter Session. — Vacations. — To Glasgow by
Canal. — A Jolly Archdeacon. — Glenarbuck. — Blantyre
House. — A Noble Fee. — A Tragic End. — A Winter Voy-
age.— Illness at Sea. — A Gentle Seafaring Man. — The
North Atlantic in Winter. — A Victim. — Hoisting Sail. —
Detection. — Arrival in New York. — A Mitigated Wel-
come 180

CHAPTER XVI.

My First Visit to Washington. — Appearance of the Capital.
—The Old Gadsby's.— A Visit from Ogden Hoffman.— A
Sight of Daniel Webster. — The Hon. Edward Stanley.—
A Call upon Van Buren. — The Joke of the Treasury. —
Jesuits' College. — Wine for Boys. — Alexandria. — Horse-
back Ride to Mount Vernon. — A Deserted Home. — Re-
turn to Edinburgh. — An Unfortunate Petition. — First
Medical Examination . . . 192

8 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVII.

The Last Academic Year. — Disability of Professors. — Sir
Charles Bell. — Supplementary Teachers. — Disgraceful In-
efficiency.— Infirmary. — Heroic Practice. — High-pressure.
— Breaking Down. — The Last Examination. — Dr. (Sir
James Y.) Simpson. — Dr. Savvneyson's Testimonials. — A
Severe Calling to Account. — Defence of Thesis. — Capping.
—Exit Page 200

CHAPTER I.

Preparing for College. — The Grammar-school of Columbia
College. — Hector Ogilby. — Discharge. — New Rector. —
Dignity and Severity. — Pedantic Jocularity. — Elephantine
Banter. — Its Victims. — Anthon. — Author. — Scholar. —
Teacher. — His Personal Appearance and Manner. —

Me and the Higher Mathematics. — His Successor. —

A Slashing Teacher. — My Destiny. — An Episcopal Strong-
hold.— Examination for College.

As the Grammar-school of Columbia College
in New York was the last elementary classical
academy of which I was a pupil, it may be re-
garded as the place where I was prepared for
college. This Grammar-school, when I entered it,
was in Murray Street, New York, in the rear of
Columbia College, upon a part of the grounds of
which it, a plain, square brick structure, was built.
There was no access, however, from the school
to the park of the college, fox fear, perhaps, that
we rude boys might trample down its greensward,

10 MY^ COLLEGE DAYS.

and commit havoc in its smooth paths and trim
shrubbery. We, therefore, during the brief in-
termissions between school-hours, confined our-
selves within the contracted court-yard, or over-
flowed, in our races and rough-and-tumble games
of " tag " and " prisoner's base," into the neigh-
boring streets.

John D. Ogilby was then rector of the school,
which, as far as its business management and
financial responsibility were concerned, was en-
tirely under the control of the trustees of Colum-
bia College. The general conduct of the school,
and the especial teaching of the head or "Rec-
tor's class," fell to the duty of Ogilby, who at
the time could not have been older than eighteen
or nineteen years of age. He had been transfer-
red, I think, even before he had graduated, from
his place as a student of the senior class to the
important position of rector of the school. With
a precocious dignity, not only of character and
manner but of personal appearance, his extreme
youth did not appear in any way an obstacle to
his management. He was remarkably tall for
his age, and so strenuously erect in his bearing
that his back bent in and his chest curved for-
ward to such an extent that he actually seemed
crooked. He had a pair of piercing black eyes,
and the most serious if not stern expression I

COLUMBIA COLLEGE GRAMMAR-SCHOOL. 11

have ever noticed upon so young a face. He
was evidently earnest to enthusiasm in his work,
and he was the first teacher I had yet encoun-
tered for whom I had any respect. He was a
rigid disciplinarian, and no sparer of the rod ;
and, though I often felt its smart, I bear him no
grudge, for I have no doubt it was well-deserved.
He had great sympathy with any mark of con-
scientiousness he might discover in a boy. I
recollect, on one occasion, on his leaving the
room, a tumult arose in the class. On return-
ing, he asked each one of a number of suspected
boys, who had been guilty of this breach of dis-
cipline? Every one denied it until he came to
me, when I boldly confessed my fault. In a mo-
ment of angry impulse he dismissed me from the
room, and ordered me to take a place in a lower
class; but I had hardly fulfilled his command
when he hurried to me, with an unusual expres-
sion of kindness in his face, and said, in his gen-
tlest tone of voice, " T , you told the truth,

and therefore I forgive you ; return to your
class." He then searched out the other offend-
ers who had deceived him, and, upon detection,
punished them with the utmost severity.

I had been so wretchedly schooled before, and
though I had nominally gone over a large sur-
face of study, had penetrated so little into its

12 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

depths, that I felt myself to be very deficient,
and found it impossible to take a very high po-
sition in my class, of which most of the boys had
long enjoyed the advantage of a more thorough
drilling. I, however, sustained myself with tol-
erable credit, and managed to make such prog-
ress as would have enabled me to enter college
with the best of my comrades, in the autumn of
the next year. It was, however, thought advis-
able to postpone (as I was very young) my en-
trance ; and, being able to spare the time, I left
the school and travelled in Europe for several
months.

On my return, after my absence, I resumed my
studies at the Grammar-school in Murray Street.
As the class of which I had been a member for
a few months had entered college, I joined that
which succeeded it. As this now became the
rector's class in turn, I was again under the im-
mediate tuition of Mr. Ogilby. This gentleman,
however, was soon discharged from his office, in
consequence of some innovations, of German ori-
gin, which he had introduced into the system of
education at the school, and the trustees of the
antiquated institution in our rear by no means
approved of.

Charles Anthon, LL.D., professor of Greek and
Latin in Columbia College, succeeded Mr. Ogilby

DR. ANTHON. 13

as the Rector of the Grammar-school, retaining,
at the same time, his former position. He took
great care, however, not to derogate from his
professorial dignity, by delegating all the less
dignified duties of the school-master to his hum-
ble subordinates. He never wielded the cane, or
deigned even so much as to box a boy's ears, but
the pains and penalties vicariously inflicted were
none the less severe. He established a Draconian
code — one law of which, I recollect, though not
from personal experience of the penalty, was that
the last four boys of each class should be daily
whipped.

Dr. Anthon reserved for himself, as his espe-
cial duty, the teaching of Greek and Latin to the
first, or Rector's class, and exercised a general
supervision over the whole school. He appointed
all the teachers, who, mostly young men taught
and disciplined by him in the college, were very
submissive executors of his arbitrary will, and
showed, especially in the department of admin-
istering punishment, much zeal. The work of
teaching our class was elementary and easy for
the learned professor, who seemed to regard it
rather as a distraction from his more severe pur-
suits than as a serious labor in itself. He sport-
ed with it as if it were a toy, and performed a
variety of strange antics in the course of his

14 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

playful treatment of us. His humors and eccen-
tricities were of a heavy and pedantic sort. He
insisted upon us boys, who were of his, the Rec-
tor's, class, answering the roll-call with the Greek
word //KW, I am come — reminding us at the same
time, with that fulness of definition characteris-
tic of him, that the term meant not only " I am
come," but that " I am come, and I remain ;" in
a word, that " I am here." The boys belonging
to the lower classes of the classical department
were allowed the use of the Latin adsum, while
those who were merely studying English and the
modern languages were restricted to the simple
vernacular, " Here." He affected a ludicrous re-
spect for the dignity of his especial class, and I
recollect that he once pretended to take great of-
fence at my calling the foot of it the tail, which
he declared to be an appellation derogatory to
even the terminal end of a body of pupils hon-
ored by the charge of so august a personage as
himself. The first boy in the class he dignified
with the title of Imperator,s\n<\. the second Dux;
and he had a variety of other marks of distinc-
tion and also of degradation for the rest, accord-
ing to their position.

Anthon was a terribly persistent banterer in
his own peculiar, elephantine way. One poor lad,
who had made a bad show at recitation, being

BANTER. 15

asked what he had been doing at home instead
of learning his lesson, conscientiously answered
that he had been reading "Oliver Twist," and
was ever after called, by the professor, Oliver
Twist.* " Now," he would say, " let Oliver Twist
try his hand ;" "Wake up, Oliver Twist ;" " That
will do, Oliver Twist;" and so on, until the poor
lad was so worried by this bantering, and took
it so much to heart, that his health and cheer-
fulness were seriously impaired, and his parents
were obliged to remove him to another school.
There was a heavy fellow of the name of Do
Witt, who, from the beginning, had precipitated
by the mere weight of dulness to the bottom of
the class, and remained there to the last. He
became the especial object of the professor's ban-
ter. He had remarkably large, bushy eyebrows,
and he was constantly reminded that this had
been always regarded as a sign of intelligence
until now, when it was manifestly proved by his
case to be quite the reverse. He was also ask-
ed, again and again, whether the famous Dutch
statesman, De Witt, was an ancestor of his; while,
at the same time, the poor youth who bore the
name was told that if he were, he was a dread-
fully degenerate descendant. Our class-fellow,

* This was some lime after I left the school.

16 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

however, was of sterner stuff than poor " Oliver
Twist," and bore all this banter without even a
sensible twitch of his copious eyebrows, and re-
mained immovable in his destined place at the
foot of the class.

Anthon was, undoubtedly, a good but not a
great and liberal scholar. He pursued the tra-
ditional methods of studying and teaching the
Greek and Latin, and had a comprehensive and
thorough knowledge of the verbal significations
and construction of those languages. He was
an industrious compiler of school and college
text-books, and made a considerable fortune by
his publications, which obtained a wide sale, not
exclusively due to their excellence but greatly
owing to his prominent position as a professor
of an institution which at that time ranked high
in the United States, and gave a considerable
prestige to any educational work emanating from
it. He was an indefatigable worker, and allowed
nothing to interfere with his habits of industry.
He was hardly ever seen out of the precincts of
his college, and checked every intrusion upon his
retirement. Over the mantel-piece of his study
he had inscribed, in large letters, " SHORT VISITS
MAKE LONG FRIENDS." His productions had no
claim to originality, and he freely appropriated
to his own use the researches of foreign scholars,

VERBAL SCHOLARSHIP. 17

especially of Germany, with an unscrupulous dis-
regard, it was charged, of due acknowledgment.
He greatly prided himself upon his Horace, which
was a very bulky volume principally remarkable
for its profuse translations, which made it very
acceptable to the superficial American student.
These translations, which were given in rather
turgid words and phrases, he seemed to regard
with much self-satisfaction, and that pupil who
repeated them with the most verbal exactness in
his recitations was sure of the highest favor and
commendation. He would frequently translate
to the class their lessons in Homer or other clas-
sical work in the course of study, and insist next
day at the recitation upon the precise English
expressions he had used ; so it became a habit
with the boys, who were sufficiently brisk as
scribes, to note down each word as he uttered it.
Anthon was undoubtedly an excellent teacher
of his kind, and he was the first one I ever was
under who succeeded in giving me an interest
in classical study. He made, I recollect, even
the Greek Testament a pleasure ; and I can recall
some of his comments and interpretations which,
though new to me, were undoubtedly familiar
to scholars. They revealed to me, for the first
time, the meaning of that sacred Volume, and
greatly excited my interest in its study. His
2

18 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

derivations of Jesus and Christ from taojuat, to
heal, and XPIWJ to anoint, and baptism from /3aw,
to go — "go down into the water" — showing ap-
parently, as he used to say, that adult baptism
by dipping was the original form, struck me, in
my youthful ignorance, with an agreeble surprise.
His statement that, whenever our Saviour is al-
luded to in the New Testament, tKftvog, which sig-
nifies merely he, implying delegated power, was
never used, but always UVTOQ, he of his own au-
thority; and his inference that this proved the
divinity of Christ, was also new to me, and a sat-
isfactory confirmation of the religious belief in
which I had been brought up. I remember the
fulness which the professor gave to his transla-
tions of some words and phrases, and how he in-
sisted upon our repeating them in every detail ;
for example, in the well-known lines of Virgil,
Facilis descensus Averno sed revocare gradum,
etc., he would render the Hie labor, hoc opus
est, " this is the labor ; in this consists the diffi-
culty" puffing his cheeks and blowing out the
latter phrase with all the force his breath was
capable of. The Trpoiairtrtr, at the beginning of
Homer, was a word upon which he was especial-
ly fond of dwelling, telling us how Pope had
erroneously translated the irpo as " premature-
ly," while he reminded us that it simply meant

PERPETUAL MOTION. 19

"down;" "down, down to hell!" he would bel-
low out with his habitual emphatic burst.

The professor was a portly man, with a large,
square Teutonic head and shoulders — his par-
ents were German — and a naturally sturdy body,
though his flesh seemed unduly soft and pallid
from want of exercise and close confinement to
his studies. He, however, was full of life and
activity, and, never at rest himself, kept his class
in a perpetual state of animation and movement.
He was constantly tossing about on his seat in
the rostrum, his hands in motion twirling a large
silver pencil-case, which he held loosely between
the thumb and finger of the left hand and struck
with the forefinger of the right, and his head
ever tui'ning as he scanned us from top to bot-
tom, and bottom to top, while he never ceased
talking and shouting to the boys as he correct-
ed their translations and substituted his own, or
sent down a question to run the gauntlet of the
class, crying out in quick succession, Impera-
torf Duxf Smith! Jones! Brown! that's it!
up, Robinson ! He used frequently to digress
from the lesson under consideration, and test
the boys' information upon some subject which
bore not the least relation to it, I remember
that on one occasion the form of a Maltese cross
was asked, and the question passed rapidly down

20 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

without meeting an answer until near the bot-
tom of the class, when a fortunate possessor of
the knowledge promptly replied, and much to
his surprise was suddenly transferred to the top,
an elevated region to which he had never aspired.

A pompous, assuming young Irishman of the

name of Me was, or ought to have been, our

teacher of arithmetic; but anything so elementa-
ry was quite too lowly for his lofty self-appre-
ciation, and he persisted in lecturing upon the
higher mathematics to a set of boys who hardly
knew the multiplication table, and did not under-
stand a word of his abstruse cogitations. He
was soon discharged as impracticable, and I rec-
ollect seeing him for many years afterward stalk-
ing about the streets of New York in a shabby
half-military coat, buttoned close to the chin to
hide, apparently, the want of a shirt.

His successor was an Hibernian like himself;
tall, gaunt, and strong, with an arm as long as
that of a gorilla — an animal he not only resem-
bled in appearance but ferocity. He was down-
right and practical enough, and never lost him-
self in the vague abstractions of Me . He

wielded a cane of his own length, and slashed
with it right and left all along the benches where
we poor lads sat cowering over our slates, strik-
ing indiscriminately, regardless whom it might

AN EPISCOPAL STRONGHOLD. 21

hit, if offender or not, like a drunken Irishman
dealing his miscellaneous blows in a row.

I was destined for Washington College, in
Hartford, an institution lately established by
the Right Rev. Dr. Brownell, Bishop of Connecti-
cut, in the interests of the Protestant Episcopal
Church. A number of young and enthusiastic
divines, among whom Doane, the Bishop of New
Jersey, Potter, Bishop of New York, and the
Rev. Dr. Hawks were, in their youth, the most
prominent, had leagued together to wage a cru-
sade against the predominating influence of Pres-
byterianism in New England. They according-
ly rallied around the bishop in his collegiate
stronghold, in the very midst of the Puritanical
enemy, as a favorable point whence to carry on
their war in behalf of prelacy. They were all
enrolled either as actual or nominal officers, but
most of them, taking no part in the internal man-
agement of the establishment, exercised their ef-
forts in doing their best to strengthen it from
without. These dispersing, went about the whole
United States like so many begging friars, though
by no means reduced to scrip and wallet, for they
found a ready welcome at some of the most
sumptuous tables and luxurious houses of the
country, stirring up the faithful of the Episcopal
Church, and soliciting alms for the holy cause.

22 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

They obtained a good deal of money, but might
have obtained a good deal more had they not
been distracted from their rather Quixotic enter-
prise by the inducements of the practical advan-
tages to themselves and to their Church of a per-
manent settlement, in the opulent and extensive
spheres of parochial duty, in the large cities. The
Bishop of Connecticut, accordingly, was soon left
to shift alone as best he could in his isolated de-
fence, which was reduced to such a state of weak-
ness as to be hardly capable of supporting itself,
much less of destroying the enemy.

My father's benevolence was among the first
evoked by the earnest appeals of the clerical beg-
gars, and he contributed a certain sum of money
(I do not know the amount), which carried with
it the privilege of the presentation of a student.
Thus paid for, as it were, in advance, I was des-
tined to become a member of the college in Hart-
ford. In the mean time, I remained a pupil of
the Grammar-school, and when the time came
for our (the Rector's) class to pass the examina-
tion for admission into Columbia College, I, feel-
ing, like a brave soldier on the eve of war, that it
would not be honorable to desert my comrades,
underwent the terrible ordeal with the rest. We
were examined together in a body, and the pro-
ceeding was very much like that of an ordinary

SLIDING INTO COLLEGE. 23

recitation, though, of course, there was no set les-
son for the occasion. We passed up and down,
according to our answers, as usual, and I found
myself at the close of the examination in the sat-
isfactory position of No. 2 in Greek, and No. 3
in Latin, in a class of between thirty and forty.
A lazy fellow chuckled with delight when he
heard of the way in which the class was to be
examined, and said that to enter college would
be like sliding down an inclined and well-slush-
ed board, placed between the school -house and
college buildings, which were contiguous. His
bright anticipations, however, were for a moment
clouded when a wag suggested that there might
be a nail in the board to catch him in the de-
scent. The examination in a body was, no doubt,
much easier for the dull and backward boys than
if each had been forced to submit to an individ-
ual test of his fitness ; so that the lazy fellow, who
slipped into college with the tail of the class,
without being asked a single question, was fully
justified in his droll comparison.

24 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER II.

Travelling to Hartford. — First Sight of College. — Admis-
sion. — A Dungeon. — College Precincts. — A Scientific
Irishman. — The Neighborhood. — The Boarding-houses. —
The Hog River. — The City. — The Students. — Religiosi.
—The Independents. — The Roysterers. — Old Traditions.
— Southern Students. — The Southern Society — Character
of Southern Students.

alone to Hartford, in the suburbs of
which Washington College was situated. I had
begged hard to have a companion, but was stern-
ly refused, not from any want of tenderness, but
because, doubtless, as I was no longer a school-
boy, and had reached the mature age of fourteen
years, it was thought desirable that I should be
thrown, as it were, on my own responsibility, with
the view of giving me a practical lesson in self-
reliance. In those days there were no railways ;
and the only means of travel from New York to
Hartford were by the steamboat and mail-coach,
or " stage." As it was in the fine season of the
autumn or fall when I set out, I took my depart-
ure in the steamboat. Sailing through Long Isl-
and Sound and tip the Connecticut River, we

FIRST SIGHT OF COLLEGE. 25

landed at the wooden pier of the little capital
city, where we were greeted on our arrival by a
large concourse of curious people and noisy boys ;
for in those days the coming in of the boat from
New York, two or three times a week, was an
event which awakened the interest of the whole
population.

The first sight of the college buildings, built of
rough-hewn stone, was by no means cheerful, and
the attempt which had been made, by the addi-
tion of tall columns of wood to the front of the
chapel, and a great impending architrave of the
same material to the roof of the main structure,
all painted of a staring white color, to give an
academic look to the whole, only gave it a more
severe appearance, and increased the sad aspect
of my future residence.

The examination for admission to college, which
had been formidable enough in anticipation, but
by no means so in reality, being over, I was duly
matriculated, and a room assigned to me. This,
as I was a freshman only, was on the ground-
floor, the higher rooms, which were regarded as
better, having been already appropriated by the
students of the upper classes. As I passed
through the low portal, with its rough battered
posts and doors, into the hall on which my room
opened, every footfall sounding loud and dismal-

26 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ly — for sill, steps, and passage-way were all of
stone — I could not help feeling as if I were being
immured as a prisoner within the heavy walls of
the ugly structure. As I turned the key, grating
harshly in the rusty, unused lock, and the door
opened, a draft of damp, mouldy air blew in ray
face, and such an aspect of solitary blankness was
presented by the rudely planked floor, and the
stained and broken plaster of the ceiling and
walls of the long empty and neglected room,
that it required no great stretch of the fancy to
suppose that I had reached the dungeon in which
I was to be confined. I was to be in solitary
confinement too, for I did not know a single soul
in the college, and had at that time no room-
mate.* Repairing at once to the convenient shop
near by, the proprietor of which was ever ready
to provide anything that might be wanted by
the student, from a bookcase to an oyster-stew,
I purchased a set of old furniture, which had
served I don't know how many generations of
students before me. This consisted of a bed-
stead, or rather bunk, a table, a couple of chairs,
and some shelves, all shining and sticky with
fresh varnish. So I installed myself, before the
day was over, in my room, thus made habitable,
if not very genial or comfortable. My first even-
ing was lonesome, and I longed for home, but

THE COLLEGE SURROUNDINGS. 27

soon became reconciled, and bore up manfully
enough, for there was no alternative but submis-
sion to my fate.

The immediate grounds about the college were
extensive and of picturesque capability, but very
much neglected ; and the scattered gravel of the
walk, irregularly laid and rough with fragments
of stone and large pebbles, and the great field of
coarse, uncut grass and tall weeds trodden down
in every direction by the chance steps of those
coming and going, and the whole space bare of
all trees or the least growth of shrubbery, in-
creased the sombre and uninviting aspect in front
of the rude academic buildings. In the rear
there was the remnant of a garden, originally
destined for botanical instruction, and a shattered
conservatory, in the charge of an ignorant Irish-
man, but who, in virtue of his collegiate appoint-
ment, felt himself bound to make pretensions to
some scientific knowledge. It used to be an
amusement to us youths to ask him the name of
a rare plant, in order to elicit his only and unfail-
ing answer: "Cactus grandiflorus, from Sene-
gal, or some other part of South America," which
he would utter with the most pompous self-as-
surance, and in the broadest Tipperary brogue.

In the neighborhood of the college premises
there were some scattered houses of plank and

28 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

shingle, painted white, most of which were mere
cottages, although there were a few more preten-
tious residences, in one of which Bishop Brown-
ell, the president of the college, lived. The small-
er tenements were generally occupied by humble
people, some of whom were poor widows, licensed
by the authorities to board the students, for whom
no meals were provided within the college. For
one dollar and seventy-five cents a week, the high-
est price charged, these hungry youths were sup-
plied daily with three substantial meals, at every
one of which there was a satisfactory allowance
of meat, while in addition there never was want-
ing a plenitude of mush and milk, buckwheat,
Indian cakes and slap-jacks, apple, pumpkin, and
mince pies, codfish balls, and all the other delec-
table contrivances of the ingenious culinary art
of New England.

The college was situated in a beautiful part of
the country near the banks of the " Little River,"
as I believe it is termed in respectful geographi-
cal language, but which we students and the in-
habitants generally called " The Hog," an appel-
lation strangely at variance with the lofty aspi-
rations of an academic resort. Whatever may
be its name, it was at that time a very pretty,
clear stream, winding along through banks alter-
nately of smooth pasture-land, knolls tufted with

OLD HARTFORD. 29

wild growth, and forest woods. I became, with
a college comrade, joint owner of a small skiff,
and we often navigated together the "Little Riv-
er," which in the course of time we thoroughly
explored. In the summer we bathed in it, and in
the winter skated on it, and it seems to me that
without this stream my college life would have
been dull and stagnant enough. On a bank of
this river, near the city across which it flows in
its course to the Connecticut, where it empties,
Mrs. Sigourney, who at that time was regarded
as a great literary personage, conferring much
distinction upon the place she had honored with
her abode, lived, in a pretty house almost hid from
view in a thick grove of hickory and chestnut
trees. Over " The Hog," where it traverses the
centre of Hartford, there was a curious old wood-
en bridge, with shops or booths built close to-
gether on each side of it ; so it looked like the
fragment of an ordinary street.

Hartford in those days was very different, no
doubt, from what it is now, but I have never had
an opportunity of seeing it in its modern aspect.
It was then one of the most picturesque little' cit-
ies I had ever seen, with much that was rural in
its appearance, though some of its structures were
not wanting in indications of the opulence and
dignity becoming a capital of the State. It re-

30 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

tained so much regard for its traditional Puri-
tanism as to begin the Sabbath, according to the
Jewish model, on the Saturday evening — when
the shops were all closed, and every amusement as
well as business suddenly ceased — and end it on
the Sunday at sundown, when each one resumed
his ordinary daily pursuits. There was, more-
over, no theatre, and the repeated demands made
for the establishment of one were severely re-
fused by the public authorities, and strenuously
opposed by the general sentiment of the inhab-
itants.

I found my new comrades very different from
those I had just left at the Grammar-school. All
of them were much older ; not only the members
of the higher classes, as was to be naturally ex-
pected, but those that were in the same class as
myself. Many of them were full-grown men, who
had already been engaged in various trades and
pursuits of life, as is not uncommon in the New
England colleges. This was especially the case
with those students who were " preparing," as it
was said, " for the ministry " — young men who,
rather late in life, having taken a serious turn,
had abandoned their original vocations to begin
a collegiate course preliminary to studying the-
ology, and becoming clergymen of the Episcopal
Church.

MY COLLEGE COMRADES. 31

Many of these youths, who were poor, were
from country towns and villages and the coun-
try itself, and were humbly if not shabbily clad,
rustic in appearance, and uncouth in manners.
We called these incipient divines the religiosi,
and felt for them a barely concealed contempt,
giving them no credit for their pious professions,
and uncharitably charging them with being actu-
ated by interested motives in changing their vo-
cations. We used to say that they had left their
previous pursuits because they wanted the capac-
ity successfully to follow them. Of one who was
known to have been a shoemaker, it was said,
that having tried in vain to make two shoes
alike, he had cast aside the awl and the last in
despair, and, assuming a convenient conversion,
had thrown himself upon the charity of the col-
lege, and been made a recipient of one of the nu-
merous scholarships with which it was endowed
for those intending to become clergymen. There
were doubtless some truly sincere converts among
these transformed mechanics and tradesmen, but
there were many who gave little indication of
having abandoned the worldliness of their pre-
vious lives, while most had retained such habits
and manners from their past associations as made
their companionship hardly acceptable to the well-
bred and refined.

32 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

The habits and dress of these students were as
distinctive as their bearing and manners. They
used to lounge in their rooms, or even attend
chapel and the lectures, and go about the col-
lege grounds and neighborhood in a negligence
of person and attire that greatly shocked me at
first sight. Their habitual dress was a long,
loose, and almost shapeless gown of thin printed
calico, such as is seldom seen outside of a sick-
room, hanging in scant folds from their stooping
shoulders down to the heels of their slipshod
feet. This they wore on almost every occasion.
They went to prayers in it, morning and evening,
to recitation, and their daily meals. Their hab-
its were very sedentary — acquired probably in
the course of their former vocations at the tailor's
board, the cobbler's, the joiner's bench, and be-
hind the counter of the shopman. They seldom
left (except in case of urgent necessity) their
rooms, in which they passed hour after hour, ly-
ing at full length upon their beds or vibrating to
and fro, with their bodies crouching in a cheap
New England rocking-chair. None of them, as
far as I can recollect, though they had the ad-
vantage of maturity and experience, and the pro-
fessed motive of a high aim in life, ever excelled
in collegiate study, or reached in after years dis-
tinction in the Church.

THE COLLEGE ROISTERERS. 33

Besides the " charity " students there were sev-
eral young men who, like them, were advanced
in years and preparing for the ministry, but who
differed in the important particular of being self-
supporting. For this purpose they were permit-
ted to absent themselves from the college during
the whole winter session, when they taught in
the district schools of the State. Thus, with the
salaries received, they were enabled to meet the
expenses of their support, and of such portions
of the collegiate course as they were enabled
to avail themselves of. These young men were
.of more independent and elevated character than
the beneficiaries, and not only took a better stand
in their classes but were held in higher general
esteem.

The college not being in a very prosperous
state, there were not more than sixty or seventy
students in all, among whom there was a suffi-
cient number of sons of thriving parents from
the various large cities and other flourishing
communities to give a certain air of external re-
spectability, at least, to the institution. These,
however, if they had more seeming polish than
their rustic fellow -students, were by no means
so subdued and decorous in their behavior. To
them, as they had given no pledges in a profess-
ed conversion and devotedness to religion, and
3

34 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

consequently were more free to act in accord-
ance with juvenile tendencies, naturally fell the
part of sustaining the traditional reputation of
the roistering student. These, few as they were
in number, were quite equal to the occasion, and
the college scrape flourished as vigorously in the
young and puny Washington College as among
its older and sturdier contemporaries. Hazing
and smoking of freshmen, blocking up chapel
doors and breaking locks, infecting recitation-
rooms and rendering them uninhabitable, bar-
ring out president and professors, transferring
tin signs and sign -boards from town shops to
college walls, and other ancient observances were
duly honored. The roisterers quorum pars inay-
na fui, as I am bound to confess in this frank
revelation of myself, were a small but very effec-
tive band, and, while we were doing no good to
ourselves, did much mischief and gave great tor-
ment to others.

There was a fair proportion of Southern stu-
dents, to whose companionship I had been espe-
cially commended, being told that I should find
them to be the most gentlemanly and desirable
associates. I, accordingly, joined their society,
which was known as the Phi Ueta, or Heta Phi;
but what these characters were intended to sig-
nify I do not remember. It was already in a

THE SOUTHERN STUDENTS. 35

state of incipient dissolution when I entered, and
although a great effort was made by us to revive
it, by incurring a large expense for the decora-
tion of the room in which we met, and the print-
ing of a vast number of circulars, which we sent
to all the old members throughout the Southern
States, inviting them to pay our bills — an invita-
tion they naturally cared not to avail themselves
of — we failed to avert the catastrophe. The soci-
ety dissolved ; and as we were responsible for its
debts, and, as I hope and believe, paid them, we
divided the somewhat extensive library among
us by way of compensation. I have some of the
books to this day ; among them a Philadelphia
edition of "Lingard's History of England," with
the Greek symbols of the old Phi Beta society
scrawled on the fly-leaf of each volume. I must
say that the dictum of those who commended
the companionship of the Southern students to
me was open to question ; for, though they had
many qualities which some might pronounce
" gentlemanly," they hardly possessed any which
could be regarded as very "desirable." They
were the idlest fellows in the whole college — self-
indulgent, profuse in expenditure, always ready
to incur and seldom scrupulous in, paying debts,
habitually dirty in person, and negligent in the
care of their clothes, though occasionally expen-:

36 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

sively and showily dressed. They resembled in
this respect the negroes, among whom the great-
est part of their lives had been spent, and whose
habits they had acquired ; who, after grovelling
six days of the week in filth and rags, spend all
their money in purchasing bright-colored clothes
and ribbons to decorate themselves on Sundays
and holidays. The rooms of these Southern stu-
dents were generally in such a plight that few of
ordinary nasal sensibility could venture to enter
them, and a view of the ragged and dirty shirts
they generally wore would throw any establish-
ment of laundresses and sewing-women into de-
spair. They were the least orderly, obedient, and
industrious of all the students; but, though they
did no good at college, some of them became af-
terward of prominence in their own States, and
members of Congress.

MY CLASS. 37

CHAPTER III.

My Class. — Standing. — Classmates. — Brilliant Writers. —
Bishop Williams. — Archbishop Bayley. — Hon. John Bige-
low. — Literary Genius. — Libraries.— Book Appropriation.
— Sham Professor. — Miscellaneous Talent. — A Brief Val-
edictory.

THERE were only seventeen students in the
freshman class when I entered, and these dwin-
dled down, during the four years of the collegi-
ate course, to the small number of ten. They all
towered high above me, for not one of them was
a boy, and several were full-grown men. I was
not only much younger than the rest, but appear-
ed, from the smallness of my size, of less age than
I was. From the very first recitation I proved
a superiority to all my fellows, which I bore
easily to the end of the collegiate course, being
acknowledged, without dispute, the head of my
class. I attribute this pre-eminence not to any
remarkable natural talents possessed by me, or to
severe application to my studies, but simply to
the better discipline to which I had been subject-
ed, especially during the last year at the Gram-

38 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

mar -school, under that most excellent teacher,
Dr. Anthon. My comrades were mostly from
country schools, where, evidently, they had re-
ceived but scant and imperfect instruction. They
had never been well grounded in the elements — a
deficiency in their education, now that they were
in college, it seemed too late to supply, for it was
presumed they knew what they most required to
be taught. They were called upon to construe
Homer and Horace, while they were hardly fa-
miliar enough with their Greek and Latin gram-

o o

mars to conjugate TVKTU and amo. My advanced
and thorough knowledge of these elements gave
me a speed and bottom which enabled me to
take the lead easily from the first, and to keep it
to the last. It might, however, seem somewhat
surprising that I was also enabled to surpass, as
was the fact, my comrades in the various oth-
er studies, in all of which, with the exception
of English composition and declamation, I was
generally the best. It was owing to the circum-
stance that the older members of the class, some
of whom had already been engaged in the ac-
tive duties of life before beginning the collegiate
course, were not only naturally backward in ele-
mentary knowledge, but very slow in developing
their faculties and applying them to new and ad-
vanced studies.

A BISHOP IN EMBRYO. 39

All my classmates appeared to me to be in-
finitely my superiors in English composition.
While they wrote whole essays, page after page,
I could only succeed with very hard work in
coupling together two or three barely consecu-
tive sentences, puerile in thought and simple in
expression. I listened with wonder, and not a
little envy, to their long effusions swelling with
full phrases, and sparkling with impossible tropes.
I thought there was a scope of thought, an ex-
panse of style, and a flight of the imagination
in those wondrous productions to which it was
hopeless to aspire. I was a poor writer, but prob-
ably a worse critic, and was admiring, doubtless,
in the compositions of my envied comrades, a
diffuseness of treatment and a turgidity of ex-
pression which were by no means preferable to
my own costive efforts.

Though none of the members of my class gave
any indication, while in college, of possessing re-
markable talents, three of them, at least, have
arisen to very prominent positions in the world.
One has been a minister plenipotentiary to France ;
another was Archbishop of Baltimore; and a third
is Bishop of Connecticut. The last, my old com-
rade John Williams, now the Right Rev. Dr.
Williams, was the only one of the three for whom
the possibility of such an elevation as he has

40 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

reached could have been predicted with any show
of reason. He, although his parents were Uni-
tarians of Deerfield, Massachusetts, had, while a
student at Harvard — for he did not enter our
class until the second (sophomore) year — imbibed
a strong preference for the Episcopal Church,
and determined to take orders in it. He, accord-
ingly, after much resistance on the part of his
father and New England friends, abandoned the
college at Cambridge for the more orthodox in-
stitution, as he regarded it, of Hartford. He was
only seventeen or eighteen years of age when I
first knew him; and yet, with his tall, stiff figure,
his long serious face and high composed brow,
his mild blue eyes, the natural fire of which, if
they had any, was subdued by the spectacles he
always wore, his sobriety of demeanor and meas-
ured talk, the old-fashioned cut of his black coat,
and his gaitered shoes, he had already the look
and manner of a settled parish clergyman. We
always called him " Parson Williams." He ap-
peared much older than his age, and his conduct
was not only in harmony with his apparent ma-
turity of years but with his ardent profession of
piety. He was a great admirer in those days of
the arbitrary High-Churchman Laud ; but I never
heard that the New England diocese of Connecti-
cut which he administers has ever had occasion

AN ARCHBISHOP TO BE. 41

to complain of any undue prelatical pretensions
on his part.

James Roosevelt Bayley an archbishop ! I
should sooner have thought of old James, the
negro janitor of the college, who pretended to
make our beds and sweep our rooms, becoming
President of the United States ! Bayley was no
student, and, in fact, seemed to think of nothing
but the care, inside and out, of his own lusty,
handsome person, and of the cigar he was per-
petually puffing. He had a broad and ruddy
face, and was always of a jovial humor. He
strolled about with a rollicking gait and devil-
may-care mannei*, which was perhaps the reason
we gave him the nickname, by which he was uni-
versally known, of " The Commodore ;" or it is
possible he may have expressed some predilec-
tions for the quarter-deck, for which he seemed
not ill-adapted, as fai*, at any rate, as appearances
went. His grandfather was a Presbyterian — a
very rich man, from whom he had great expecta-
tions. His father and mother were both dead ;
and as they had been, as his relatives generally
were, Presbyterians of the strictest sect, I do not
know how it happened that he had strayed into
the fold of the " prelatics." On graduating from
the college, he followed for a short period the
profession of his father, who, Dr. Guy Carleton

42 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Bayley, had been a physician of some prominence
in New York, and for a time the chief medical
officer of the Quarantine. Our class-fellow Bay-
ley, however, did not long practise as a doctor,
but, studying theology, was ordained a clergy-
man, first, I think, in the Presbyterian, and after-
ward in the Protestant Episcopal Church. While
settled as the rector of a small parish at Harlem,
he became very intimate with the resident Cath-
olic priest, who is said to have exercised a good
deal of influence over him. However this may
be, much to the surprise of his friends generally,
and greatly to the vexation of his Presbyterian
grandfather, who cut him off without even the
traditional shilling, he became suddenly a con-
vert to Roman Catholicism, and in due course of
time, after a residence as an acolyte in the semi-
nary of St. Sulpice, in Paris, was consecrated a
priest. He seems to have been an especial pro-
tege of Archbishop Hughes, whom he served a
long time as secretary, and was subsequently,
through his influence, made Bishop of Newark,
New Jersey. His final promotion was to the
Archbishopric of Baltimore, where he died in an
odor of great sanctity, and left a memory much
revered by that powerful hierarchy of which he
was regarded as one of the most zealous cham-
pions.

TIIE DESTINED PLENIPOTENTIARY. 43

The minister plenipotentiary that was destined
to be, John Bigelow, was a boisterous, overgrown,
awkward boy, to whom the indefinable nickname
Rigdum Funidos, which some of us gave him,
seemed not inappropriate. He was one of the
youngest of the students, and remained so short
a time at our college that it would have been
difficult to form any idea of his probable future.
He left after the second year, and became a stu-
dent of Union College, in Schenectady, where he
developed a taste for study. After graduating,
he studied law in the city of New York, partly
supporting himself in the mean time by teaching.
With the younger Daponte (son of the Italian
patriot), Parke Godwin, Eames, Tilden, Butler,
Clarke, and others, mostly old fellow-students at
Union College, he formed a society called "The
Column," for the purpose of improvement in lit-
erature and debate. These young men all be-
came, more or less, writers for the various jour-
nals; and Godwin and Bigelow established a week-
ly paper, The Pathfinder, on their own account.
It did not prosper, though great credit was
awarded by the critics to the articles, and es-
pecially to some remarkable ones attributed to
Bigelow. After the demise of The Pathfinder,
Bigelow, nothing discouraged with literature,
gave up the law and devoted himself exclusively

44 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

to the pursuit of letters, writing constantly for
the papers and magazines, editing and compiling,
and doing other miscellaneous work for the book-
sellers. For a long time a contributor to the
N. Y. Evening Post, he at last became an edi-
tor and proprietor conjointly with Mr. Bryant.
Through the influence of this devoted republi-
can paper Bigelow obtained the appointment of
United States Consul to Paris. On the sudden
death of Dayton, the American minister to the
Imperial Court, and in consequence of the sup-
posed incompetency of the Secretary of Lega-
tion, Bigelow was immediately transferred by
President Lincoln from the consulate to the em-
bassy, with the title of charge d'affaires. Sub-
sequently he was appointed minister plenipoten-
tiary, and upon him devolved the arduous and
responsible duty of conducting the negotiations
Avith the Imperial Court for the purpose of in-
ducing France to withdraw its army of invasion
from Mexico. The successful result was not a
little due to the persistent and judicious energy
with which Bigelow co-operated with the reso-
lute policy of the Secretary of State, Seward, and
the Cabinet at Washington. On his return from
Paris, Bigelow settled in New York, and, resum-
ing his old alliance with the democratic party,
which had been temporarily severed during the

LITERARY FACILITY. 45

agitation of the Slavery question and the prog-
ress of the war, was elected Secretary of State
of New York. Bigelow has been an industrious
publicist and author. He is the writer of a work
on Jamaica, W. I. ; a statistical account of the
United States, written in French ; and the editor
of the best edition of the autobiography of Ben-
jamin Franklin. While in Paris, he fell in with
the original manuscript, and published it, with a
completion of the life by himself, and the work
is now acknowledged to be the standard biogra-
phy of the patriot and philosopher. The article
"Franklin," in the new edition of the Encyclo-
pedia Britannica, now in the course of publica-
tion, was written by Mr. Bigelow. The unquiet,
almost shapeless college youth has developed into
the sedate and portly man of six feet in height,
with an appearance of much personal dignity and
distinction.

Besides these three notabilities — the minister
plenipotentiary, the archbishop, and the bishop —
our little class supplied Michigan with a Secre-
tary of State, and Connecticut with a Lieutenant-
Governor.

There was some literary facility among the
students, as was shown by the publication of a
few numbers of a college magazine with this title,
characteristic of juvenile pedantry: The Herm-

46 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

athenian. I regarded it as a wonderful per-
formance, and would have gladly contributed to
it had I deemed myself capable. There was one
of the migratory teacher-students who had writ-
ten the prize story for a country newspaper, upon
whom I looked with great admiration as undoubt-
edly the genius of the college, and likely in fut-
ure times to rival in reputation Scott and Coop-
er. I have forgotten his name. Such, alas, is
fame !

The societies, with their weekly debates and
essays, kept alive a certain interest among us all,
in the literary, social, and political topics of the
day; and their libraries as well as those of the
college supplied us abundantly with books, of
which I continued to be, as I had always been, a
great but miscellaneous and indiscriminate read-
er. Besides the college library there was in the
same room or hall, covering one whole side of it,
a large collection of volumes, to which additions
were being constantly made by the frequent ar-
rivals of great foreign-looking cases crammed full
of books, directed to Professor Samuel Farmar
Jarvis. This personage, though his name was
very familiar to us all — for it had always for many
years headed the list of the Faculty in the annu-
al catalogue — was, like a good many of his sham
colleagues, no more a reality to us than Mrs.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. 47

Gamp's shadowy friend, Mrs. 'Arris. He was
nominally a professor of Ecclesiastical Polity, or
something of that sort ; and I question, as he had
been for a very long time living in Europe, wheth-
er he had ever seen the college, or even thought
of it but as a convenient place where to send his
books, and thus avoid the payment of Custom-
house dues and the expense of storage. It was
expressly stated that the collection belonged to
Samuel Farrnar Jarvis, D.D., LL.D., S.T.D., etc.,
Professor of Ecclesiastical Polity, etc., etc., to
give him his full title as set down in the college
catalogue, and was reserved for his exclusive use,
while every student was warned off from touch-
ing a single book. The shelves, however, remain-
ing quite open, and the librarian, a short-sighted,
blinking tutor, who could not see further than
his nose, being the only one to guard them, the
students finding some of the works of a tempt-
ing kind, with, moreover, the additional attrac-
tion of being forbidden fruit, helped themselves
without scruple. I, while admiring the good-
taste of the owner for not confining his selection
to theology, availed myself freely of the choice
miscellaneous literature I found on his shelves,
and carried off, I recollect, at different times, all
the works of Fielding, Smollett, and Sterne, as
well as of other authors. I must do myself the

48 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

justice to state, however, that I never failed to
take good care of every volume, and scrupulously
to return it ; but I fear, with some, what was in-
tended only as temporary appropriation, became
permanent larceny. Among the collection was
a copy of the first edition of " Junius," with cor-
rections in the handwriting of the author, as was
stated on a fly-leaf of the volume. This would
have been, to any investigator of the authorship
of the work, of immense value ; and I recollect
having carried off the priceless volume, and kept
it lying about my room in my careless possession
for several weeks ; but I can honestly affirm that
it was finally replaced by me on the same shelf
whence I had taken it.

There seemed to be a sufficiency of miscella-
neous talent among the students for every occa-
sion of college requirement, and the annual jun-
ior exhibitions and commencements were never
without their traditional comedy and poems of
the usual merit, or rather want of merit, of such
effusions. At the end of the year it was cus-
tomary for the students to get up a mock exhibi-
tion, when the recognized wag of the class was
generally selected to deliver a humorous valedic-
tory. On one of these occasions, when all were
assembled in great expectation of an evening's
entertainment — for the chosen spea'ker was cred-

A SHORT VALEDICTORY. 49

itcd with an unusual endowment of the vis comi-
ca — he, after having demurely presented himself
and bowed to the audience, said, " Good-bye, fel-
lows !" and disappeared.
4

50 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER IV.

The Faculty. — The Sham Professors. — The Real Teachers.
— Sleepy David. — Old Caloric. — The President. — High
Jinks. — A Change. — The New President. — Holland. —
Professor Jim. — Habits of Exercise. — Vacations. — Chol-
era in New York. — A Speech of Henry Clay. — Governor
Ellsworth. — Isaac Toucey. —Gideon Welles. — Hunger-
ford, the Lawyer.

THOUGH our Faculty was nominally largo and
imposing, it was in reality very small and insig-
nificant. The names of many highly-titled Rev-
erends, and Right Reverends, and Honorables,
and Chief-justices, and Governors — with all the
alphabetical letters our colleges and universities
distribute so profusely, attached — figured as those
of professors of impossible sciences and unheard-
of branches of learning, in the circulars and an-
nual catalogues. They themselves, granting their
existence, which might not unreasonably be doubt-
ed, never showed their faces, to my knowledge,
within the precincts of the college, or evinced
the least interest in what was going on there.
The teaching devolved upon two or three quasi

SLEEPY DAVID. 51

professors or tutors, who were supposed to give
instruction in Greek, Latin, mathematics, chem-
istry, and philosophy — the only branches taught.
Our instructors were mostly young clergymen,
who had sought their tutorships and professor-
ships merely as resting-places, on their way to
something better which they were hopeful might
turn up. They were perpetually shifting, so that
it was seldom that the Faculty remained the same
for two consecutive sessions.

The professors seemed to me in the recitations
as if they only had an hour's start of the pupils,
who were, evidently, always pressing close upon
their heels. Some were absurdly unfit for their
places. There was one I particularly remember ;
we used to call him" Sleepy David ;" I am sorry
that I have forgotten his real name, for I should
have liked to pillory and expose him here to the
scorn of all honest teachers and lovers of sound
education. He undertook to teach us geometry,
and, of course, at the end of the session we knew
no more of it than at the beginning. As, how-
ever, there was to be a public examination, we
became anxious as to the possible consequences
of our ignorance; so we went in a body, every
one of the class without a single exception, and
audaciously declared to the professor, or tutor,
or whatever he was — to " Sleepy David," as we

52 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

termed him — that he must tell us in advance the
proposition he would call upon each olus to dem-
onstrate, and he did so !

One professor, a retired phy.sici.in and a man
of fortune, lived during the summer in a hand-
some country residence near the college, and, as
a pleasant distraction to him in his leisure, un-
dertook to teach chemistry to the students. We
called him "Old Caloric;" for, take what time
he would, he resolutely stuck to that elementary
branch of the science, leaving us to suspect, and
justly, I firmly believe, that he dared not vent-
ure farther, for fear of getting out of his depth.
His services, however, were said to be gratuitous,
and, upon such cheap terms, perhaps we got as
much as we were entitled to, and should have
been grateful for being allowed to flounder about
in the shallows without expecting the privilege
of diving into the profundities of science.

The president, the Right Rev. Dr. Brownell,
Bishop of Connecticut, was a venerable, amiable
man, who performed his collegiate duties in n,
very perfunctory manner. Contenting himself
with a good-natured smile to every student he
met, and an occasional homily on some general
moral obligation, delivered in his peculiarly bland
manner from the chapel rostrum or pulpit, he
left the rest to his incompetent subordinates, who

HIGH JINKS. 53

were equally remiss in fulfilling their duties as
guardians and teachers.

There was some pretence of visiting the stu-
dents' rooms every evening ; but this show of su-
pervision did not hinder us from absenting our-
selves with impunity whenever we pleased, and
we frequented at will each other's apartments or
sallied out into the town at any hour of the day
or night. We were left undisturbed in our high
jinks, both inside and outside of the college walls.
We had our frequent symposiums in our rooms,
eating and drinking to any excess without much
fear of check, and I attribute much of my own
subsequent ill -health to these irregular indul-
gences. We were eating doughy mince and ap-
ple pies, and washing them down with eggnog
and punch, which we mixed in our wash-basins,
stirred with the handles of our tooth-brushes,
and drank out of our soap-boats, during the night
and throughout the small hours of the morning,
when we should have been fast asleep in our
beds. If not in our college rooms, we were prob-
ably in the town taverns and confectionaries, do-
ing worse.

There was some improvement in the discipline
and teaching on the appointment of the Rev.
Dr. Whcaton as president, in the place of Bishop
Brownell, and of William Holland as professor of

54 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

the Latin and Greek languages. The new presi-
dent was a prim Puritanical-looking person, of a
severe countenance and resolute conduct, but he
wanted tact, and could not reform without dis-
organizing.

Holland, the new professor, had been a tutor
in Yale College, and had a greater mastery over
the subjects he pretended to teach than some of
his predecessors, but his heart was not fully in his
business, and he preferred the political forum to
the groves of Academus. He often made speeches
at the democratic town-meetings, and so identi-
fied himself with the cause of Van Buren, when
nominated for President of the United States, as
to write a popular and flattering biography of
him, and travel about the country on an election-
eering tour, commending him to the suffrage of
the people. He, after leaving the college, settled
in New York as a lawyer, but died before he was
able to accomplish much, either in his profession
or political life.

There was one member of the Faculty, perhaps
the most notable one of the whole set, who is en-
titled to a remembrance. He, too, like the rest,
performed his vocations in rather a perfunctory
manner, but he was a faithful fellow withal, and
stuck more closely to his duties than any of the
others. He had been at least constant to his

PROFESSOR JIM. 55

profession, for he had served the college ever
since its establishment. This was "Professor
Jim" — as we called him — our negro janitor,
whose special duty it was to sweep out daily some
thirty rooms, and make at least sixty beds, which
he undertook to do and did in a manner. Though
he, probably from necessity, was somewhat re-
miss in the performance of his duties, he nega-
tively was of considerable benefit to us all; for,
what he neglected to do, we were forced to do
for ourselves, and thus became by compulsion
practically useful and self-reliant. We made our
own fires, cleaned our own shoes, brought up our
own water, and got rid, in some way or other,
of our own slops. Many of us, besides, sawed
our own wood, and carried it up into our rooms.
Professor Jim had a history, which he was fond
of relating. He had been a sailor on board the
Shannon during the famous fight with the Ches-
apeake, having been impressed into the service
of the English Navy, and thus may be regarded
as having shared in the honor of causing that
little war of 1812, of which we are so patriotical-
ly proud. He used to assure us that, on the ap-
proach of the engagement between Lawrence and
Brook, he had been caught in the act of spiking
the cannon of the Shannon, and kept in irons
during the famous fight. He died a few years

56 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

since, at a very advanced age ; and it is pleasant
to know that his last days were consoled and
comforted with a pension — a liberal one, it is
hoped — from the college.

The students were not very enterprising in ex-
ploration of the country around Hartford. We
took no long walks, or, in fact, systematic bodily
exercise of any kind. We played no out-door
games, regarding cricket and foot and base ball,
and other such invigorating pastimes, as quite
below the dignity of collegiate students. In sum-
mer, however, some of the younger and more ad-
venturous swam both the " Little " and Connecti-
cut rivers, and in winter skated upon them. None
but myself and fellow-proprietor of our little skiff
ever thought of taking a spii-t at rowing. We
occasionally, however, took a drive to Wads-
worth's Tower, some ten miles from Hartford,
or a sleigh-ride en masse to Wethersfield, famous
for its onions, its pretty girls, and delicious "flip."
I was an occasional companion in a drive of an
old New York friend, who had entered the col-
lege at my earnest solicitation, for which I hope
he may have forgiven me. He was no more dis-
posed to study at Hartford than he had been at
the Grammar-school in Murray Street, and pass-
ed the whole week doing nothing but exercising
his patience in waiting for the coming round of

A SAD VACATION. 57

the Saturday, when, loaded with his gun and fish-
ing-rod, he used to set off in a buggy for Wind-
sor. I do not recollect that he ever, when I ac-
companied him, filled his creel or shooting-bn£,
but I shall never forget the savory trout and
plump quails with which the sporting host of
the Windsor Hotel used to regale us at table,
and more than compensate TIS for our own ill-
luck in the brook and the woods.

During the whole four years I was at college,
I never failed to spend each of the three annual
vacations at home ; and sometimes in the winter
I have gone the whole way from Hartford to
New York in an open sleigh, when the snow and
snow-drifts made the roads impassable for the
Boston mail-coach or stage, which was the usual
means of conveyance by land.

It was during a summer vacation (1832) that
the cholera in New York was at its height. I
went home even then, but gradually, as it were,
stopping on the route at Greenfield Farms, where
some friends had fled for refuge. I recollect, as
I presented myself among the group, how each
one, thinking that I might have come from some
infected district, shrunk back and withheld his
hand; while an old gentleman, whom I knew well,
fairly turned his back upon rne and took to his
heels, ramming, at the same time, great fingers-

58 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ful of snuff into his nostrils. I did not stay long
at Greenfield Farms, but soon went, in spite of
the cholera, to New York, where I remained with
my family during the whole summer. We lived
on a diet and regimen that were supposed suita-
ble for warding off any attack of the pestilence.
We ate no fruit or vegetables of any kind, not
even potatoes, and drank regularly at our dinners
pretty strong potations of port-wine and water.
We all escaped without even a premonitory symp-
tom of the cholera. I have never spent, however,
a more terrible time — one more "full with hor-
rors " — for each moment of the day we were re-
minded of the dreadful pestilence which was rav-
aging the city in which we dwelt. There was
no other topic of conversation in-doors and out.
The daily number of attacks and deaths, of which
there were printed slips issued from the newspa-
per offices, was reiterated by every one we met,
with probably a supplementary account, with all
the sickening details of some specially sudden
case of horror, of private experience. There was
hardly a person who had not his story to tell of
this friend or that neighbor who had died — one
after eating a peach, another after eating a pota-
to, or some article of food deemed generally not
only innocuous but most wholesome. It was
the last thing the poor victim ate which was

HENRY CLAY. 59

always regarded as the teterrima causa of his
death.

We had occasional visits at the college from
the presidents and other great men on their
periodical tours over the country. Henry Clay
was received by the whole body of the students,
headed by college president and professors, and,
being addressed by one of them, responded in a
speech. I cannot recall what he said on that oc-
casion ; but, during the same visit, when I heard
him address the citizens of Hartford, I can re-
member the conclusion of his speech, which was
singularly inappropriate, I thought, to his sober-
sided New England audience: "I did not," he
said, " come here to be treated with any form or
ceremony, but to see you as friends ; in a word,
to take a drink and a chew of tobacco with you!"
This might have been a welcome peroration to a
throng of his jolly constituents assembled about a
Western tavern, where the deed would, no doubt,
have quickly followed upon the word ; but it was
like a sudden dash of cold water into the faces
of his Puritanical friends of the East, after the
soul-stirring orator had first warmed them into
sympathy with his genial eloquence.

The students visited occasionally in Hartford,
and I became more or less familiar with some
of the notabilities of the place. There was Ells-

GO MY COLLEGE DAYS.

worth, the Governor of the State, a tall, broad-
shouldered, simply attired, and dignified-looking
man, who received a salary of only one thousand
dollars a year, and lived upon it — his daugh-
ters serving at his table and doing other homely
household duties, as was customary in those
days in' the best New England families, when
women contrived to be useful without a tarnish
to their refinement.

The governors of Connecticut used to wear a
small black cockade on the side of their beaver
hats, near the top, like the cockades worn by Eu-
ropean footmen. I have not seen any governor
for many a year, and I wonder whether they wear
cockades, and live on one thousand dollars per
annum, nowadays !

I saw Isaac Toucey often, subsequently Secre-
tary of the Navy, under Pierce. He was a statu-
esque-looking man, with a great projecting fore-
head, as square, smooth, and white as a block of
marble. He, either if walking or rather stalking,
or standing, bore himself as stiff and erect as a
column of the State House, and when he spoke,
his sentences were uttered with the slowness and
emphasis of not-to-be-questioned oracles. It was
edifying to us young folks to behold so dignified
a personage regularly in his place in the Episco-
pal Church where we attended, and to see him

NOTABILITIES. Gl

humbly soliciting, with the plate in his hand, at
each pew -door the alms of the charitable; for
he was one of the wardens or vestrymen, whose
duty it was to make the collection.

Gideon Welles, the editor of the Hartford
Times, and at one time Secretary of the Navy,
was a slouchy man with a shock head of hair, as
full and scattered as the twirling mop of a serv-
ing-maid.

Hungerford, the leading lawyer of Hartford, a
really able and eloquent man, had a peculiarity
that no one who ever observed it could easily
forget. As soon as he began to speak, his nose
would begin to wrinkle, the movement increas-
ing, and the furrows deepening more and more,
as he warmed in his discourse. I never noticed
a habit of more ludicrous effect.

62 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER V.

Graduation. — An old Diploma. — Its Suggestions. — Choice
of Profession. — The Bells and Mason Good's Works. —
Enter University of Pennsylvania. — Professor Homer. —
The Mysteries and Horrors of Dissecting-room. — Dr. Hare.
— Chemical Displays. — Surgery at Blocksley Hospital.
— Professor Gibson. — Other Professors. — Doctors made
Easy. — Passage to Liverpool. — A Jolly Voyage. — Dr.
Hawks. — Arrival in Liverpool. — Departure for Edinburgh.

ON the 6th of August, 1835,1 spoke rny com-
mencement speech on the text, Ingenuas artes
didicisse, emollit mores nee sinit esset feros, not
that I knew much theoretically or practically of
the influence of the arts, for I believe that I was
as insensible of their refining effects as a Zulu
warrior. I then received my degree of B.A.
(bachelor of arts). I have the diploma before
me at this moment. The parchment has turned
yellow with age, but the view of the college at
the top is clearly discernible, with the projected
wing, that was never built, added, to give com-
pleteness to the picture, but which to me is only
a symbol of the sham establishment whose pre-
tensions were always in advance of its perform-

LEAVING COLLEGE. 63

ances. The seal has melted into a shapeless mass
of red wax, with not a line of the original stamp
left ; while the once bright blue ribbon to which
it is attached has lost all its original color, and
faded to a dingy white. These, too, may be sym-
bolical, and serve to remind me of the effects
of time and age, the obliterated impressions and
vanished hopes of youth. I have had the bit of
parchment for nearly half a century, but I know
not why I have kept it, for I have never looked
at it during those many years until now, and it
has never been of any other use than to point
the sentences I have just written.

I left the college, for it was no alma mater or
benign mother to me, without a regretful feeling
or reverential remembrance. I would have glad-
ly dropped a veil of oblivion over those impor-
tant but wasted four years. I do not wholly
blame myself; for I was eager for knowledge
and amenable to discipline, and I am sure that, if
those whose duty it was to guide and govern me
had better fulfilled their obligations,! should have
been less recreant to mine. Washington is now
Trinity College, and, with its fresh baptism, it is
hoped that it has been inspired with a new and
better life — it could not be worse.

Before leaving college, I had taken a fancy — I
can hardly call it by so strong a term as a reso-

64 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

lution — to become a physician. I do not know
that I had any peculiar fitness or even a taste for
the profession, but I was not any better adapted
or more inclined for the bar or the pulpit, and I
had to make a choice of one of the three. The
motive which induced me, I think, to settle on
the medical profession was the no more serious
one than that my last chum in college had se-
lected it, and I thought it would be pleasant to
continue my companionship with him as a fel-
low-student in our new studies. He was going
to the Medical School of the University of Penn-
sylvania at Philadelphia, and it was arranged that
I should join him there on the opening of the
session in November.

I do not recollect very well how I spent the
interval of three months. I may have been for
some time in the country, and, no doubt, I read a
good deal in my usual desultory way. With the
kindly intention of giving me a foretaste of my
medical studies, some of my friends had provided
me with copies of the "Anatomy," by John and
Charles Bell, the two celebrated Edinburgh sur-
geons, and of the " Study of Medicine," by John
Mason Good. I could not have had two works
better calculated to enamor me with the profes-
sion I had resolved upon pursuing. Medical sci-
ence has brought to life and buried whole libra-

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. 65

vies of text-books since those days ; but the vol-
umes of the Bells and Good, though they may
now be scorned as guides, have never lost their
literary interest, and will always be welcomed as
the most charming companions for a leisure hour.

My friend and fellow-student had selected his
lodgings in Philadelphia before I arrived, and I
felt bound, out of good comradeship, to join him ;
but they were in a boarding-house, cheap even
for those times — three dollars a week — and the
style of living, as well as the company, was so
little to my liking, that I felt uneasy during the
whole time of my stay.

I attended all the lectures pretty regularly, but
gave my chief attention to those on anatomy and
chemistry. Professor Homer was a cleai' dem-
onstrator, though little else, and under him I ac-
quired a fair elementary knowledge of anatomy;
and by the daily sight of the dead subject on his
table, and the occasional dissection of "a part"
by myself, became so familiarized with these pro-
fessional horrors as greatly to overcome my first
natural repugnance.

The dissecting-room was only accessible at
night, and those who were allowed to frequent it
were enjoined to keep the fact a secret from all
but the initiated. This may have been necessa-
ry ; for the laws of Pennsylvania either did not
5

66 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

recognize as legal the dissection of the human
body, or public opinion was so opposed to it that
it was not safe to practise it openly. This secre-
cy, and the precautions which were taken to pre-
serve it, the nightly visitation, the whispered com-
munications between the knowing ones, and the
guarded silence to all others, cast over the whole
business such an air of mystery, and made it so
much a deed of darkness, that I never went to
this simple performance of my duty without feel-
ing somewhat as must feel the assassin going
in the night with stealthy steps to his act of
murder.

Dr. Hare, the Professor of Chemistry, amused
me, as he did every one else, with his various fire-
works, his flashy and explosive displays of elec-
tricity, and his exhibitions of the eccentric effects
of the gases, oxygen, and protoxide of nitrogen,
upon himself and some of the more adventurous
students, but he succeeded in teaching very little
of the principles of his science to any of us.

At Blocksley Hospital, Dr. Gibson, the Profes-
sor of Surgery, showed us each week bloody work
enough to have quickly familiarized the most in-
experienced ; but I could never witness his bru-
tality without a severe shock to my feelings, and
he hardly ever lectured without sending away
from the amphitheatre several students in faint-

A SURGICAL PROFESSOR. 67

ing fits. Many of his exhibitions were unneces-
sarily demonstrative; for he seemed to take a
great delight in accumulating as large a number
of horrible cases as he could, and displaying them
in public without regard to the feelings of the
poor sufferers or the sympathy of the pitying
spectators. He at one time, I recollect, ordered
all the patients — and there must have been nearly
fifty of them in the hospital — affected with chorea,
or St.Vitus's dance, to be brought together into
the pit of the amphitheatre, for no other purpose,
apparently, than to exhibit the eccentric move-
ments of the poor creatures thus afflicted. To
me it was one of the most painful scenes I ever
witnessed ; for I could not but think how much
the sad consciousness to each of his dreadful
malady must be increased by witnessing its hor-
rid distortions and convulsive movements in the
others, and how greatly intensified the sense of
an affliction thus made manifest to the gaze of a
crowd of gaping spectators.

Professor Gibson was a sturdy man, with a
stout muscular arm, short cropped iron-gray hair,
a hard aquiline nose, and cold blue eyes. He
was always equipped, when about to operate, in
a sort of butcher's apron and sleeves of a black
water, or, rather, blood-proof cloth. He prided
himself, and justly — for it was a great operation

68 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

— on a successful performance of the Caesarean
section, where both the woman and the child who

"Was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd,"

survived. The professor must have been in his
element during this heroic operation — up to his
elbows in blood !

Of the rest of the Faculty I know but little.
Wood, the Professor of Materia Medica, the joint
author with Bache of the standard " United States
Dispensatory," had the peculiarity of being with-
out a single natural hair on any part of his body.
He, however, by the aid of a flowing wig and
well-designed artificial eyebrows, made, with his
pale sculptured face and tall dignified person,
one of the most presentable members of the
whole professorial corps. Chapman, the Profes-
sor of the Practice of Medicine, was a great far-
ceur, and cared much more to amuse than instruct
his class. Jackson, the Professor of Physiology,
speculating instead of experimenting, went on,
session after session, mystifying himself more
and more, and "becoming less and less intelligible
to us. I, for one, confess that I never could un-
derstand a word he said. Hodges, the Professor
of Midwifery, was an earnest, conscientious man,
who did his best to cram all that was known of

MURDEROUS IGNORANCE. 69

his science into the crania of three hundred raw
students in the space of four months, but it was
slashing work.

Eight months of study in all, or two sessions
of four months each, were required for admission
to the examination for a degree. No prelimina-
ry education of any kind was necessary, and hun-
dreds of young men without the least knowledge
of Latin and Greek, and to whom, consequently,
each technical word of the sciences they professed
to learn and master must have remained a per-
petual puzzle, and with hardly any other acquire-
ment beyond a superficial acquaintance with the
elements of learning, were — after listening for
eight months to the various courses of lectures
which they could not possibly understand, even
if they had time enough — annually authorized
by the University of Pennsylvania to practise as
physicians, to whose murderous ignorance any
one might fall a victim.

It was understood that, on my leaving Phila-
delphia at the end of the first term, I was to go
to Edinburgh, in Scotland, for the completion of
my medical studies. I do not recollect how Or
with whom the idea originated, but I gladly wel-
comed the prospect, as most young men of my
age naturally would, of a change, and the oppor-
tunity of travel into foreign lands.

70 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

I, accordingly, set sail for Liverpool in the
packet-ship /St. Andrew, Captain William Thomp-
son, in the spring of 1836. It was probably ear-
ly in the month of May, but I cannot recall the
exact date. The captain, an Irishman of good
family and education, was a great favorite with
his countrymen of the North of Ireland, of whom
there was a considerable number in New York,
in the enjoyment of wealth and high social posi-
tion. Several of these with whom he was very
intimate were our fellow-passengers, and the cap-
tain regarded them very much in the light of his
guests ; and, entertaining them accordingly, they
and we were regaled right royally. The poop
hung with saddles of venison, fat turkeys, canvas-
back ducks, plump fowls, and succulent game of
all kinds, and, festooned with gigantic bunches of
celery, gave us, as soon as we stepped on board,
a promise of dainty abundance, which was ful-
filled most sumptuously on each day to the last
of the three weeks' voyage. In those times the
large sum of forty guineas, or two hundred dol-
lars, was paid for a passage. This included a
d'aily supply of wine — port, sherry, and madeira
at discretion, and champagne twice or three times
a week. With this gratuitous flow of drinkables,
the more convivial habits of those days, and the
greater length of the voyages by sailing vessels,

ACROSS THE ATLANTIC. 71

a passage across the Atlantic in a first-class pack-
et-ship, particularly under the circumstances of a
company of intimate friends, and those a set of
merry Irishmen, in charge of the captain, was
sure to be a continued jollification. We all be-
came intimately acquainted, and each dinner was
prolonged into a session like that of a club of
merry fellows, where the bottle circulated, and
the speech, the song, and the quips and cranks
went round until a late hour of the night.

Dr. Hawks, of New York, who was a passen-
ger, was a great favorite with every one on board ;
and the services he read, and the short, simple
addresses he delivered from the capstan-head on
the Sunday, were as well appreciated by all, from
captain to Ducks, as his more elaborate discourses
from the pulpit of St. Thomas had been by its
imposing crowds.

The doctor, moreover, in our less serious mo-
ments, was the most cheerful of companions, tak-
ing part readily in the drolleries of the occasion,
whatever they might be. He performed, I rec-
ollect, the part of judge in a burlesque court, on
the trial of one of the passengers for having sur-
reptitiously taken, and disposed of by eating, the
remains of a Stilton cheese. He showed infinite
humor in his grave affectation of gravity, and
every word of his charge was followed by peals

72 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

of laughter, not only from jury and counsel but
even from the prisoner himself. From Liver-
pool, where we arrived after a passage of from
eighteen to twenty-one days or so, I proceeded
to Edinburgh.

Although the first of the railways — the Liver-
pool and Manchester — had been for some time in
regular operation, and the whole of England was
in course of being cut up to make way for oth-
ers, I then had no choice in going to Edinburgh
but between a long and tedious ride of days and
nights by stage-coach and a sea-voyage. I chose
the latter, taking the steamer from Liverpool to
Glasgow, and the mail thence to Edinburgh.

ARRIVAL IN EDINBURGH. 73

CHAPTER VI.

Arrival in Edinburgh. — The Summer Session at the Univer-
sity.— My First Quarters. — A Disorderly Household. —
Historical, Romantic, and Personal Associations. — The
High Street of Edinburgh. — The Little Chapel. — Alison
on "Taste." — Mackay the Actor. — Holyrood Palace. —
Arthur's Seat and Salisbury Crag. — Heriot's Hospital. —
The Meadows. — The Links and Golfers. — Convent. — The
Site of the College. — Murder of Darnley. — The Univers-
ity and its Associations.

I ARRIVED in Edinburgh in time to attend the
summer session (1836), during which the profes-
sor of botany delivered a course of lectures, and
the various private schools of anatomy and chem-
istry were open. Attendance at the university
during the summer sessions was not obligatory,
and there were, consequently, but few students
in comparison with the large number in winter.
The university building was closed ; but the pro-
fessor of botany delivered his course of lectures
at the beautiful botanical garden situated in the
suburbs, at the opposite extremity of the city.
Having duly matriculated, I took the "ticket"
for this course, and at the same time became a

74 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

student of the private anatomical school taught
by Dr. Sharpey, afterward the eminent professor
of the University of London.

I was commended to a Dr. Y , who agreed

to give me board and lodging, and such contin-
gent advantages as a youthful medical student
could derive from his professional practice, for
sixty pounds a year. The doctor was what is
called a general practitioner — a plain, practical
man, with no pretensions whatsoever to scientific
or general culture. His business was among the
small tradesmen and mechanics, of whom there
were many in the neighborhood of George's
Square, where he lived. His patients, though
generally of the humbler classes, were numerous
and remunerative enough to justify him in keep-
ing a horse and gig, or drosky, rather, as it was
always called, and to enable him to support his
large family plainly but in tolerable comfort.
His household was conducted on the strictest
principles of economy, and his table was neither
liberally supplied nor elegantly served. There
was always, however, a fair allowance of parritch
and pease-brose, baps, broth, and caller haddies,
those peculiar Scotch dainties with which I then
became first and fully acquainted, though only
by dint of hard scrambling for them with my
numerous hungry competitors of the Y— — fam-

THE ROMANCE OP EDINBURGH. 75

ily. The house was in a continual state of dis-
order, the chief elements of which were a squall-
ing baby, a tumbling child, pugnacious brothers
and sisters, a scolding mistress, and a grumbling
servant-maid. I made my escape in the course
of a few months.

In the mean time the summer was spent by
me agreeably enough, and I found no difficulty in
disposing of the long days of that Northern lati-
tude. A few hours of the early morning were
ample for my lectures and studies; and I had
abundant leisure for a thorough investigation of
every street, nook, and corner of the picturesque
old city in which I had taken up my abode, and
all its interesting neighborhood.

C5 O

I was sufficiently well-read to appreciate the
historical, romantic, and personal associations in
which Edinburgh is so rich. The halo of Sir
Walter Scott's genius, which was then in its ef-
fulgence, had thrown such a brightness over the
old town, that every spot it touched seemed to
me to have as much of the clearness of reality as
the most authentic scene of history, and I traced
the humble steps of Jeannie Deans with the same
assurance of faith as the stately progress of the
beautiful Queen Mary. The memories of beau-
ty, passion, guilt, and suffering were as distinctly
awakened by the sight of Tolbooth Church and

76 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

the Parliament House as by Holyrood Palace
and the chapel ; and certainly it was no more
difficult to hear the " piercing shriek" of poor
Effie Deans among the echoes of the old " close,"
or square, than to see the blood of David Rizzio
on the stained floor of the royal bedchamber.

The old town was full of interest to me, and
day after day I paced its steep and winding
streets, lingered about its irregular squares, and
peered into its grimy closes. My favorite walk
was along the High Street, from the craggy
heights of the Castle through every turn of its
tortuous and precipitous course between walls of
towering and impending structures — whose jag-
ged outlines and uneven surfaces looked, iu the
deep shade they threw, not unlike the steep and
rugged banks of some mountain-torrent — down
to Holyrood Palace and the low and level ex-
panse of meadow -land which stretches around
and beyond, and finally rises into those remarka-
ble eminences, Salisbury Crag and Arthur's Seat.

Every house and each step of ground have
their historical or romantic associations so blend-
ed as to be difficult of distinction ; and as I saun-
tered along in their contemplation, I seemed to
be in a confused dream of fact and fiction. I
must confess, however, that my memory was
more quick to respond to the gentle hints of fan-

THE HIGH STREET. 77

cy than to the blunt reminders of truth. Heed-
less of all that Scottish history might tell me
of authentic sieges and defences, I recollect that
the old Castle only suggested to me the desper-
ate struggle described by the writer of a romance.
As I gazed upon the Grassmarket, the steep and
crooked Bow, the Tolbooth Church, and the Par-
liament House, I was recurring to the pages of
Sir Walter Scott's " Heart of Midlothian," and
not to the annals of Scotland ; in my attempts to
revive the past, and for what I could recollect of
the Porteous mob and its ill-fated victim, I was
more indebted to the novelist than historian. In
fact, I should have probably cared little to look
upon Bow or Grassmarket, and thought no more
of Porteous than any other fellow who had been
strangled by the hangman's noose, if Scott's mag-
ic touch had not painted scene and character on
my memory.

There was one association which required no
art of the romancer to call to the mind. Trust-
ing to my senses, I might have well dispensed
with my recollection of Smollett's graphic ac-
count in "Humphry Clinker" of the foul habits
of the denizens of the High Street ; for the pass-
er-by, as of old, was still startled by the cry of
" gardy loo " (garclez Veau], and forced to dodge,
as best he might, the oft-repeated torrents of filth

78 MY COLLEGE DAYSV

from the windows of the many-storied houses
impending over his head.

I left nothing unseen or unvisited. I stared
,'ig.iin and again at the old Tolbooth Church,
which, with its grimy walls, heavy square tower,
and iron-barred gates and windows, seemed to
me no less sombre than must have been its for-
mer neighbor, the Tolbooth Jail, in spite of its
light crown-topped spire, and the merry succes-
sion of tunes chimed by its bells at the noonday
hour. I, of course, knew well the little old house
at the corner, with its projecting upper story,
and painted effigies of John Knox holding forth
from his pulpit. I was equally familiar with
the imposing residence of the regent Murray,
and every other structure in the street to which
either history, romance, or tradition had hung a
tale.

I went every Sund'ay to the little English
chapel in Carubber's Close, on account of its
nearness to my residence, and was well pleased
to hear that it was the place where Alison, the
author of the work on "Taste," had held forth
in his choice Addisonian style every week half a
century before, and no less charmed to discover
that the devout, bald-headed, sturdy little man
on his knees by my side was Mackay the actor,
the representative of the Baillie Nicol Jarvie of

HISTORY AND ROMANCE. 79

the stage, and the close friend of the author of
" Rob Roy."

I was often within the deserted courts of Holy-
rood, and treading in the steps of Darnley and
his conspirators from the chapel — a lovely ruin,
reverentially wrapped in ivy — up the few narrow
winding steps into the bedchamber of Queen
Mary, where Rizzio was rudely torn from the
protecting embrace of his royal mistress, and
slaughtered at her feet.

From Holyrood I often wandered beyond, past
Mushat's Cairn, where Jcanie Deans held the
nocturnal rendezvous with her sister's seducer,
past the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, close by,
to which the ready-witted woman pointed, and
thus secured the escape of her companion from
arrest, and herself from brutality at the hands
of the villanous Ratcliffe ; and going around and
above the cliffs of Salisbury Crag, I would de-
scend into the green meadows of St. Leonards,
where I could place, at the caprice of my fan-
cy, the cottage of the Deans or the croft of the
Dumbiedykes.

At other times I would ascend Arthur's Seat,
which lies crouching like a colossal lion in guar-
dianship of the city, and from its summit take
in that unequalled view of city, country, sea,
and mountains. There was the gray old town,

80 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

with all its picturesque irregularities of width
and height; the Pcntland and Grampian Hills,
on which "my father feeds his flock, a frugal
swain ;" the Frith of Forth, and the sea-beaten
Ailsa Crag; all varying every moment to the
sight with the shifting lights and shades of that
unsettled climate.

A favorite walk of mine was through the long,
straight avenues in the " Meadows," passing on
my way Heriot's Hospital, a beautiful Gothic
structure, the founder of which is said to be the
original of King James's goldsmith, in Scott's
"Fortunes of Nigel," to the pleasant, airy, rolling
ground of the "Links." Here I would follow for
hours the earnest golfers, or stand staring at the
convent close by, where, within its high walls, bar-
red gates and windows, was immured a full bevy
of nuns. I wondered how this piece of the oc-
cult mechanism of the Roman Church could ever
have been established within the sound of the old
bells of the Tron, and in out-spoken Presbyterian
Scotland.

Turn where I might, both in the old and new
town, as the ancient and modern parts of the city
of Edinburgh are called, I had not far to go to

O 7 O

find places of interest from their association with
notable personages and events. The site itself
of the stately structure of the University was

A LIST OF WORTHIES. 81

that of the lonely house, the Kirk o' Field, where
Darnley was left on his sick-bed after a traitor-
ous kiss by his queen, a few hours before that
fatal midnight when an awful explosion shook
the whole city, " and the burghers rushed out
from the gates to find the house of Kirk o' Field
destroyed, and Darnley's body dead beside the
ruins, though ' with no sign of fire on it.' " Both-
well certainly did the deed ; for he looked upon,
and directed his servants as they laid the pow-
der beneath the royal bedchamber; and who can
doubt that Mary was an accomplice, if not the
instigator of the crime ?

To name the great men in science, literature,
or public affairs who are associated with the his-
tory of the University, either as teachers or stu-
dents, would be almost like calling the British
roll of fame. In the profession of which I was
a humble student, what a list of worthies from
Cullen to Thompson ! In science, from Black to
Christison ! In philosophy, Reid, Dugald Stew-
art, Brown, and Sir William Hamilton ! In lit-
erature, Hume, Robertson, Blair, Goldsmith, Mac-
kenzie, Jeffrey, Scott, and Wilson ! In theology,
Chalmers ! In public affairs, Brougham, Mack-
intosh, Homer, and Lord John Russell ! and a
host of others in every department of intellect-
ual pursuit.

6

82 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER VII.

Contrasts. — Hume's Monument. — Ambrose's. — Scott's and
Hume's Houses. — Jeffrey at Home and at Court. — Mur-
chiston. — Hawthornden. — Dr. Chalmers. — Gtithrie. — A
Visit from Dr. Hawks. — His Companion. — Sydney Smith.
— Surgeon's Square. — Burke and Hare. — Dr. Knox. —
Allen Thompson. — "Never Touched the Ground." — Por-
trait of Knox. — De Quincey and his Daughter. — Macau-
lay. — Dr. Abercrombie.

MY researches carried rae into strangely op-
posite places. I was one day meditating among
the tombs in a church -yard, and on the next
regaling myself, and making merry in a tavern.
Now I was contemplating Hume's monument, a
huge, ugly, round structure of masonry, which
looked so unlike any of the surrounding Chris-
tian memorials in the old burial-place on the Cal-
ton Hill, that I thought it must be a tool-house,
or anything, in fact, but what it was, until I no-
ticed the simple inscription :

DAVID HUME,

BORN 1711; DIED 1776.

"Leaving it to posterity to add the rest."

LORD JEFFREY. 83

Then I was eating a chop, and drinking a pot
of "half-and-half " in Ambrose's eating-house — a
humble establishment enough, up a narrow pas-
sage-way leading from Princes Street (close by, as
far as I recollect) to the Register House. Chris-
topher North, Tickler, and the Shepherd may
have occasionally met, and eaten a broiled bone,
and mixed their toddies in one of Ambrose's
alcoves ; but few, if any, such " Noctes Ambro-
sianae " as we read of in Slackicood were passed
by them in the place. The title was probably
assumed from the name of the proprietor lend-
ing itself so happily to the Latin adjective, and
suggesting the word "Ambrosial," supposed to
be particularly appropriate as applied to such
god-like feasts of reason and flow of soul.

I hunted out every house where a distinguish-
ed man was born or lived, and discovered Sir
Walter Scott's homes in the old and new towns,
and the sceptical Hume's residence in St. David's
Street. I walked out as far as Craig-crook, the
pretty villa where Jeffrey, with his American
wife (formerly Miss Wilkes of New York), lived
an equable and happy existence, and tracked him
to his seat of justice in the Parliament House.
Here I often peeped through the green curtain
which hung before his contracted judicial stall,
and watched the wondrous little man unravelling,

84 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

in his quick, impatient way, the tangle of Scotch
law. His restless person was in a state of per-
petual movement; his eyes turning here, there,
and everywhere; his features in constant play;
his forehead rippling in quick successive wrin-
kles, as if striving to throw off his close-fitting
judicial wig, which seemed to grasp his diminu-
tive head painfully, almost down to his eyebrows,
and with its great stiff curls of white horse-hair
heavily to oppress him with its weight. His
arms, too, he was ever moving with an uneasy
action, thrusting them out, and shaking them, as
if he would rid himself of the encumbrance of
his official robe of scarlet, which covered his
shoulders and hung in loose folds from his neck
to his wrists.

Murchiston Castle came often within my ob-
servation, for it was quite near — a modern Goth-
ic structure in the suburbs of Edinburgh, the for-
mer residence of Napier, the inventor of the loga-
rithms, and the ancestor of the present Lord Na-
pier and Murchiston, formerly the English minis-
ter plenipotentiary to the United States. It was
an unsuccessful attempt at a gentleman's man-
sion, which had resulted in an ugly jail-like build-
ing, which was then used as school-house.

I extended my walk sometimes as far as Haw-
thornden, a flourishing-looking country-seat with

THE GREAT PREACHERS. 85

a park of lordly extent, and an ancient mansion,
where the poet Drummond had lived and re-
ceived Ben Jonson on his memorable visit, when
he walked the whole way from London. Near
by was the beautiful ruin of Roslyn Chapel,
which, of course, I did not fail to inspect. There
was another fine ruin much nearer Edinburgh —
Craigmillar — each stone of whose broken arches
and crumbling walls I was as familiar with as
the threshold of my own door.

I went to hear the great preachers. Dr. Chal-
mers was then professor of the University, and
had no parish of his own, but occasionally held
forth at a small church at Liberton, I think it
was called, in the suburbs of Edinburgh, and here
I was one of the large crowd which thronged in
and about the contracted building. Not very
familiar with the Scotch brogue which Chalmers
spoke, of the rudest Glasgow kind, and finding
it not only difficult to understand but painful to
listen to, I was little disposed, at first, to give
much heed to his sermon. His appearance and
manner in the pulpit, moreover, were by no means
attractive. His face and features were coarse
and large; his lank gray hair fell carelessly about
a narrow forehead, and he kept his head bent,
and his blinking eyes close to his manuscript;
while his only action was an up and down or

86 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

sawing movement with his right arm, from the
elbow. In spite of all these personal disadvan-
tages, which, at the beginning, were very repul-
sive to me, I was soon so interested in his fer-
vid utterances, and absorbed by the quick alter-
nations of emotion with which my feelings re-
sponded to his earnest appeals, that I unresist-
ingly yielded to the torrent of his eloquence.
The man, in the mean time, seemed transfigured,
and my tearful eyes saw, as it were through a
sacred halo, the prophet or apostle.

Dr. Guthrie was at Grayf riar's Church, I think,
and was already, although he had not been long
in Edinburgh, regarded as one of its notable men.
It was strange to observe how this tall, gaunt,
broad-shouldered man, with the physical strength
of a Hercules, would thrill with emotion as he
recalled the wretchedness of vice, and suffering
of poverty, and to what tender accents he toned
his rude Scotch dialect, as he appealed to the
sympathy of his listeners. He had, besides, ex-
ceedingly graphic powers of description ; and
Wilkie, with his brush and colors, could not have
produced a more distinct and impressive picture
of the humble life of Scotland than Guthrie, with
his fervid words and glowing imagination, did of
the lowly scenes of his experience in the grimy
closes and wynds of the old town of Edinburgh.

AX AMERICAN VISITOR. 87

My fellow-passenger across the Atlantic, Dr.
Hawks, in the course of his tour came to Edin-
burgh, and was glad to avail himself of my guid-
ance, and complimented me on the fulness of my
knowledge of the various places and associations
of interest in and about the city. He was as
ready to follow as I was to guide, and as will-
ing to listen as I to discourse. Not so, however,
his -companion — a reverend gentleman like him-
self— who was then a prominent clergyman of
the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York;
subsequently a Catholic priest; and now again is,
or was when last I heard of him, of his original
creed. He seemed to regard all our talk about
the old town and its associations as a great bore,
and it was impossible to get him out of the snug
parlor of the Royal Hotel, or beyond Princes
Street or South Bridge, where he passed much
of his time with his nose flattened against the
plate-glass of the shop-windows, contemplating,
in an ecstasy of delight, the brilliancy of their
displays. He was especially enamored of the
Scotch stuffs, and bought whole pieces of vel-
vet, and rolls of ribbon of the plaid of a clan to
which he professed to belong ; and in whose an-
nals, traditions, associations, and especially cos-
tume, his entire interest, as far as Scotland was
concerned, seemed absorbed.

88 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Dr. Hawks, during his stay in London, had met
Sydney Smith, and brought away with him some
reminiscences of the talk characteristic of that
witty divine, which he narrated with humorous
appreciation. I knew Buccleugh Place, in an
eighth or ninth flat of which Jeffrey once had
his elevated residence, and where he, Brougham,
and Sydney Smith, happening to meet, the last
proposed to set up a Review. This was acceded
to, although the motto proposed by Smith, Te-
Kiui musam meditamur avend — "We cultivate
literature on a little oatmeal" — being too near
the truth, was not admitted. Sydney Smith, as
a long resident of Edinburgh, and first proposer
and editor of its famous Review, seems thus as
much one of the celebrities of the Scotch me-
tropolis as of London. Reminiscences of him,
therefore, fall naturally into any description of
Edinburgh. I wisli that I could reproduce the
words and manner with which Dr. Hawks, in re-
calling, gave expression to them. Sydney Smith
asked the Doctor to what extent he thought a
stranger of good appearance, but of no pecun-
iary means whatsoever, could get into debt in
London? He answered the question at once
himself, by estimating the amount at forty thou-
sand pounds; and went on by describing how
such a person — a Major Sharper, for example —

SYDNEY SMITH S TALK. 89

might proceed : going to the best hotel on arri-
val; renting a handsome house, subsequently, on
the strength of the respectability of his hotel;
obtaining the furniture on the credit of the im-
posing appearance and genteel position of his
mansion; establishing an account with butcher,
baker, grocer, wine-merchant, fruiterer, and huck-
sterer without difficulty, on no other basis than
his flourishing style of living ; and so on, using
one roguery as the foundation for another, until
finally, after exhausting his own ingenuity of de-
vice, or the credulity of the tradesmen, making
his escape from the toppling structure of fraud
he had raised, and leaving to his creditors the
debt of forty thousand pounds to be divided pro
rata among them.

Another subject of the witty dean's conversa-
tion was the Rev. Dr. Wainwright, subsequently
the Bishop of New York, who was at that time
in England. His aspirations to ecclesiastical dis-
tinction were well known to his intimate acquaint-
ances in New York; but Sydney Smith — who had
met him casually, once or twice only, in London
society — seems with wonderful acuteness to have
discerned at first sight the ruling desire of the
ambitious divine, which was, in fact, to be a bish>
op. After dwelling upon the excessive priestly
unction and manner of Dr. "Wainwright, his punc-

90 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

tilious attention to the minutest detail of all the
varieties of clerical costume, and his fond fre-
quentation of the society of ecclesiastical digni-
taries, the witty dean concluded, "And, -would
you believe it? it is said (lowering his voice to a
whisper) that he has been seen trying on a bish-
op's apron before his looking-glass f" Dr. Hawks
went to hear Sydney Smith preach at St. Paul's,
but heard Dr. Adam Clarke, the old Bible com-
mentator, instead ; for it was one of his sermons
that the clever but not over-scrupulous divine
delivered as his own.

Attendance upon Dr. Sharpey's course of Prac-
tical Anatomy took me daily to Surgeon's Square,
which opened just opposite to the University, and
terminated in a cut de sac, within which were
the Royal Medical Society building, and most of
the private lecture and dissecting rooms. Among
these was the hall of Dr. Knox. It was the largest
in the whole Square, and, but a few years before,
it daily filled to overflowing; for the doctor, not
only as a popular demonstrator but as the pro-
prietor of a well-supplied dissecting-room, at a
time when dead bodies for anatomical purposes
were scarce, commended himself to students from
every quarter, of whom he had the most numer-
ous class in Europe. When, however, I first went
to Edinburgh, Knox, though he had lost none of

HORRID MERCHANDISE. 91

his characteristic energy or skill as a ready
lecturer and clear demonstrator, held forth to
almost empty benches, the scattered students
upon which hardly amounted to the average of
a score.

The doctor, notwithstanding, had by no means
become any less, but, in fact, much more of a
celebrity. He was far better and wider known
than ever. His reputation had extended beyond
the precincts of the colleges to the extremities
of the civilized world ; and his name was now no
longer uttered with praise by medical students
everywhere — who at most were but few — but
with detestation by all mankind.

The cause was evident, for Dr. Knox was the
anatomical lecturer who had received and paid
for all the dead bodies of those whom Burke
and Hare and their confederates had murdered !
His flourishing dissecting-room in Surgeon's
Square was the market whence arose the de-
mand that created the supply for the horrid
merchandise, of which those bloody ruffians took
care that there should be always an abundant
stock on hand.

Dr. Allen Thompson, now the eminent Profes-
sor of Physiology in the University of Glasgow,
whose acquaintance I made soon after my first
arrival in Edinburgh — upon the question, which

92 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

was then a frequent topic of discussion, coming
up, as to the extent of Dr. Knox's connivance —
told me that he was his student at the time of
the murders; and one morning, on entering the
dissecting-room, Knox met him in an unusually
gleeful mood, and leading him to a table, threw
off the sheet and disclosed a fresh body, saying,
at the same time, with that peculiar puckering
of the mouth characteristic of him whenever he
was pleased, like a man gloating over something
good to eat, "Never touched the ground/ Nev-
er touched the ground!" He thus repeated the
phrase over and over again, evidently wishing it
to be well understood by his listener that the
subject before them was not one of those ordi-
nary bodies which had been disinterred, as such
were the only kind usually to be obtained at that
time ; for, previous to Burke and Hare, no one
had ventured to murder the living, though there
were many who were ready to steal the dead, in
order to supply the dissecting-room with its nec-
essary material.

Knox was tried and acquitted of all complici-
ty ; and his lawyer, whom I knew well, told me
that he was firmly persuaded that his client was
guiltless of any connivance whatsoever with the
dreadful crime of Burke and Hare. Dr. Knox,
however, remained under a cloud of suspicion

POKTRAIT OF KNOX. 93

and obloquy to the end of his life. Finding his
school in Edinburgh deserted, he was forced to
seek a livelihood elsewhere. He passed the re-
mainder of his days as a literary vagrant — now
holdins: forth as an itinerant lecturer, and again

O * O

scribbling here and there as a hack writer for
the publishers and newspaper proprietors.

Knox was a man of a most villanous aspect.
His face was corrugated all over with deep scars
of the small-pox, and he had a leer or squint of
one of his eyes which drew up the whole cheek,
which was further deformed by a puckering of
the mouth, habitual to him. He had a squat,
coarse person, the ugliness of which was made
more noticeable by his vulgar, dressy costume,
consisting of a shiny silk hat, a green Newmar-
ket cutaway coat with brass buttons, a full over-
lapping striped waistcoat, and a flashy red neck-
erchief. He had the look of a fictitious sporting
character, such as may be seen enacting the part
of a decoy at the thimblerig stand on a race-
course. He was an eager, bustling person, seem-
ing always on the alert for business.

I often met De Quincey in my walks, general-
ly, I recollect, in the open meadow-land near the
Palace of Holyrood, which was included in what
is known as the " Liberties " or Jail Limits, to
which the freedom of debtors was restricted.

94 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

He was a little, meagre, sharp-eyed old man.
His daughter was his constant companion — a
ruddy, pretty-faced young woman of about the
height of her diminutive father.

I did not know, but I daily saw in the streets
of Edinburgh, Dr. Abercrombie, the author of the
once popular books, " Intellectual Powers " and
"Moral Feelings." His practice as a physician
was enormous, and kept him ever on the go.
His carriage was to be seen at every hour from
early morning to late at night, as he drove over
the whole circuit of the city. He was so absorb-
ed in the practical duties of his profession that
he had never a moment to spare for any society
but that of his numerous patients, and he barely
found time even for the pursuit of his favorite
studies. Whenever I caught a glimpse of the
busy doctor, he was poring intently over some
book, which I never saw him without during the
many years I was familiar with his person. He
stood his hard work well, for his full rotund body
and cheerful, ruddy face were indications of sat-
isfied ease and happy contentment.

Macaulay I once saw on the hustings in the
High Street, and, showing himself in the "nap-
less vesture of humility" to the people, heard
him "beg their stinking breaths." I did not
recognize in him then the great man he after-

1TACAULAY. 95

ward proved to be; and there was nothing in
his heavy manner and puny voice to tempt me
to linger among the throng of his dirty and tur-
bulent supporters, and endure their rough elbow-
ing and noisome presence.

96 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER VIII.

My First Invitation. — A Jolly Dinner. — Edinburgh Conviv-
iality.— A Surprise. — Religious Topics. — J. Shank More.
— Edinburgh Society. — A Disputed Child. — Mr. Craig. —
Bishop Ravenscroft. — From Slave-whip to Crosier. — A
Change of Quarters. — Mr. Ainslie. — A Friend of Burns. —
Clarinda. — A Genial Neighbor. — Marriage at Three-score-
and-ten. — A Festival. — Campbell the Poet in the Chair. —
Genius in Eclipse. — Professor Blackie in Youth.

HAVING delivered ray letters of introduction,

I received my first invitation from Mr. F , a

flourishing wine-merchant, and one of the wealth-
iest and most influential of the burghers of Ed-
inburgh. He was then, or had been shortly be-
fore, the Lord Provost or Mayor of the city. He
had a handsome villa in Newington, on the out-
skirts of the old town, showily furnished, where
he entertained most liberally. His wife was a
charming, intellectual person — a dark brunette,
with black piercing eyes, full flowing hair of the
same color, and the regularly-cut features of a
handsome Italian, though she was a Scotswoman.
Her husband was of the extreme opposite type
— a sandy- haired, blue-eyed, light- complexioned

FIRST DINNER IN EDINBURGH. 97

Scot. Both of them were the most genial, kind-
hearted people in the world, and to their friend-
ship and generous hospitality I was indebted for
many of the pleasantest hours of my stay in
Edinburgh.

My first dinner at their house was on the an-
niversary of their wedding-day. It was a jovial
occasion. The guests were magnates and offi-
cials of the town, and, as hearty feeders and deep
drinkers, sustained the traditional reputation of
the civic dignitary. I had heard a good deal of
the convivial habits of the Scotch folk generally,
and of the old Edinburgh burghers in particular;
but at the same time I was led to believe that, a
great reformation having taken place, the gener-
ation I was among, if not absolutely abstemious,
was comparatively temperate. If what I wit-
nessed was temperance, what could have been
the excess of a former time ?

After the soup every one, of course, drank off
his bumper of sherry or madeira ; and after the
fish no one, equally of course, refused his full
liqueur-glass of raw whiskey; for " whiskey,"
every one exclaimed, as he gulped it down, " is
Scotch for salmon" — a standing joke of the na-
tive unfathomable kind. Then began the wine
" taking," as it was termed, which was continued
with great briskness throughout the whole din-
7

98 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ner, but greater still during the intervals between
the courses. The host first pledged the lady on
his right in a bumper, and then every other lady
in succession, saying to each, "Mrs., "or "Miss,"
or whatever might be the title, " shall I have the
pleasure of a glass of wine Avith you?" Next,
each gentleman, in turn, pledged the hostess,
repeating the same formula of words, " Shall I
have," etc. ; then took wine with the ladies on
each side of him.

Now the host went through with the same
ceremony with all the gentlemen, who afterward
repeated it to each other, every one filling his
glass afresh whenever he asked or was asked to
take wine. On this set occasion two or three
bottles of champagne were, in addition, distrib-
uted by the servants among all the guests. Thus
a good deal of wine, and strong wine too, was
drunk during the many and prolonged courses
of the dinner.

All this, however, was regarded as purely pre-
liminary, and so trifling as hardly worthy of com-
putation in the quantity of wine consumed on
the occasion. It was only when the table-cloth
was removed, and the mahogany was left bare,
that the serious drinking began. Fresh glasses
by the half-dozen were set before each guest, and
a row of tall decanters and claret-pitchers, full to

LIVELY DRINKING. 99

their stoppers, were arrayed in front of the host,
who took care to keep them in brisk circula-
tion.

After one or two rounds the ladies were bow-
ed out of the room, and the gentlemen set to
work in earnest. The host, never forgetful of
his duty as the moving force, was always quick
to start the decanters and to keep them in brisk
circulation, by stirring up every dilatory member
of the company with the reminder, " Now, Mr.
Smith, the bottle is with you!" or, " Mr. Jones,
your glass is empty; fill up, and pass the wine!"
or, " Brown, my good fellow, your neighbor is
thirsty ; pass the claret, please !" This went on
for hour after hour, the company in the mean
time frequently emptying the decanters, which
were replenished again and again. On this oc-
casion, in addition to the usual decanters and
wine-pitchers, a magnum of port — an immense
bottle, of the capacity of a gallon — was brought
in in honor of the wedding anniversary, and be-
ing soon whirled into the general orbit of the
smaller satellites of Bacchus, kept revolving un-
til it too, like them, was lost in vacuity.

When sherry, pale, brown, and golden ; port,
old, dry, and crusty; madeira, sweet and mel-
lo\v ; claret, delicate and full-bodied, failed any
longer to stimulate the jaded tongue or titillate

100 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

the palled palate, the whiskey-bottles, the boil-
ing tea-kettle, the sugar-bowl, the glasses and
ladles were called for, and the more pungent tod-
dy again awakened the thirst of the wine-sated
revellers.

The door of the dining-room was now lock-
ed ; and mindful of the stories I had heard of the
practice of Scotch convivialists, I feared that I
was destined, in common with my companions,
to fall, and pass the night under the table. I
was, however, soon relieved from my alarm when
our host, opening a compartment in the side-
board, disclosed to our view an indispensable ar-
ticle of convenience, ordinarily found nowadays
shut up in a table de nuit, or hidden under a
bed. It was a welcome sight to the saturated
company.

I did not know then how we managed to as-
scend the many stairs, and face the ladies in the
drawing-room, after this prolonged debauch-
ery, so I can hardly be expected to remember
now.

However deep in his potations, the Scotchman
has always a sober thought and word for relig-
ious matters. The Church, or rather the Kirk,
always a topic of talk of oppressive prevalence
to the uninterested stranger in Scotland, was em-
phatically so at this time, and here at my friend's

THE AUCHTERADER CASE. 101

dinner-table, as everywhere else, the Auchterader
case,* as it was termed, was discussed in all its
wearisome details.

Another family to whose intimacy I was free-
ly admitted was that of J. Shank More, and to
them and himself I was indebted for many kind
hospitalities. Mr. More was an eminent advo-
cate of Edinburgh, and lived, with his wife, two
grown-up sons, and several daughters, in a hand-
some residence in Great King Street. I met the
best of company at their house, chiefly the dis-
tinguished professional men of Edinburgh and
their families. Dr. Chalmers and other promi-
nent clergymen of the Established Church of
Scotland ; an occasional law lord ; a military of-

* The Auchterader was the crucial case which led to the
disruption of the Scotch Established Church, and to the sep-
aration and organization of that important ecclesiastical body
now known as the Free Church of Scotland. The patron
of the Auchterader living had, notwithstanding the protest
of the parishioners, insisted upon forcing the minister of his
choice upon the parish. Thence arose the cry of non-intru-
sion, as it was termed, and the appeal to the courts for a re-
versal of the appointment. After several years of passionate
discussion, which agitated the religious sentiment of Scotland
as it had not been since the persecution of the Covenanters,
the action of the patron was finally confirmed, and the non-
intrusionists, funning far the larger portion of its lay and
clerical force, seceded from the Established Church.

102 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ficer from the Castle or the barracks; a goodly
number of advocates and physicians; a chance
country " laird and his leddy ;" and now and then
a merchant or manufacturer from Glasgow, were
the staple guests at the table of Mr. More, to which
I was often invited.

Mr. More, though the son of a dissenting min-
ister of the most liberal political views, was him-
self a staunch member of the established Church
of Scotland, and a confirmed Tory. Such, how-
ever, was the sweetness of his temper, that it was
proof against even the bitterness of Edinburgh's
political partisanship ; and Mr. More was beloved
alike by Churchman and Dissenter, Whig and
Tory. It was universally admitted that he was
destined to h'll the first vacancy on the bench in
the gift of his party whenever it might be in
power. He, however, never became a law lord,
but ended his long and honorable career as pro-
fessor, in the University of Edinburgh, of Scotcli
law — a department of his profession in which he
was acknowledged to be pre-eminent.

One of Mr. Move's daughters married an Eng-
lish officer, and went to India with him. She
soon died there, leaving an only child — a little
girl of three years of age — who was sent to Ed-
inburgh, and placed under the charge of Mr. and
Mrs. More. They doted upon the child with

A STOLEN CHILD. 103

more than the characteristic fondness of grand-
parents. Mr. More, especially, delighted in pet-
ting and caressing the little girl, and during his
rare moments of leisure seemed never contented
without her companionship. At dinner-time —
it mattered not who were his guests — he always
sent for his little "Ailsie," saying, as soon as the
cloth was removed, " Come, we must have the
Scotchman's dessert !" and as she came in run-
ning to his arms, he would snatch her up, give
her a fond hug and a kiss, and place her upon
the dining-table, where she was left awhile tod-
dling about on the slippery mahogany, to be ad-
mired by the surrounding guests, while the grand-
father regarded her with eyes sparkling with
pride and delight.

The little girl's father, in the mean time, mar-
ried again, when a question arose between his
parents and the Mores as to who should have
the charge of the child. The Mores would listen
to no proposition which would deprive them of
the little Ailsie, to whom they clung with all the
fibres of their hearts. Her other grand-parents,
though fortified with the permission of her own
father, failing to obtain the little girl by any fail-
means, resorted to foul ; and, lying in wait one
day, with a carriage at hand, snatched her from
the side of her nurse in the street, and drove off

104 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

with her, never to be seen again by the broken-
hearted Mores.

There was a gentleman of the name of Craig,
to whom I was also indebted for many kind-
nesses. His wife was sister of Ravenscroft, the
Protestant Episcopal Bishop of North Carolina;
and this close association with the United States
made him and his family always ready to extend
a warm welcome to every American, and I re-
ceived the full benefit in many generous hospi-
talities of this friendly bias toward my country-
men. Bishop Ravenscroft was a Scotchman by
birth, and had wandered away, in his youth, from
his Presbyterian home in Scotland, carrying with
him, as a ne'er do weel, the saddest forebodings

f * O

of his future fate. After many vicissitudes of
fortune — sinking at one time even so low as to
wield the whip of a negro -driver or overseer
over the backs of a gang of crouching slaves— he
finally bloomed forth in all the sacred fulness of
Episcopal lawn, as a distinguished prelate of the
Church. It may be suspected, however, notwith-
standing his unquestionable eminence as an ec-
clesiastical dignitary in the United States, that
his Presbyterian friends in Scotland rather re-
garded his prelatical elevation as a fulfilment
of their prophecy of the evil end to which they
had predestined the unpromising lad. Mr. Craig

A FRIEND OF BURNS. 105

told me that he had found, in the published col-
lection of Bishop Ravenscroft's writings, two un-
acknowledged sermons by divines of repute, but
whose names I have forgotten.

Driven away from Dr. Y— - by the* anarchy
and turbulence of his domestic establishment, I
was soon comfortably domiciled in snug quar-
ters in the lodgings in Graham Street, kept by
a buxom, canny Scotchwoman, of the name of
Muuro. Next door to us lived a very old gen-
tleman— a Mr. Ainslie. He had been a writer
to the signet, or solicitor and attorney of some
mark in his prime ; but his chief distinction came
from the fact of his having been in his youth an
intimate friend of Burns, the poet, of \vhom, no
doubt, he had a great deal to say, but I can recall
little of what I heard from him.

He used, I know, to defend warmly the memo-
ry of the poet, and declare that the ordinary im-
pression of his irregular habits was a greatly ex-
aggerated one, saying that he was no worse than
most young men of his day, and that he had an
ardent sentiment, as we may well believe, of virtue
and piety.

Ainslie himself, in his old age at least, was a
very religious man. He was the author of a lit-
tle devotional book, "The Reasons of the Faith
that is in Us," or some such title — a work which

106 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

was very popular, and has given much consola-
tion to pious people of the evangelical sort.

In all the biographies of Burns, Ainslie's name
is mentioned ; and some of the letters addressed
to him by the poet are given, which, as far as I
recollect, are of a kind which indicate that their
sympathies were of a more worldly character
than the pious old gentleman would have had me
believe. Mr. Ainslie, in the occasional visits he
received from a Mrs. McLahose, kept up his old
associations with Burns ; for she was one of the
survivors of the numerous claimants to be a
Highland Mary, or some other bonnie Scotch las-
sie,* who had the honor of having had in her
youth the poet for an admirer, and minstrel of
her beaux yeux. She was a very old little wom-
an of more than fourscore years, with an arti-
ficial front of hair to conceal her baldness, gray

* Mrs. McLahose was the Clarinda, I believe, to whom
these verses were addressed:

"We part — but, by those precious drops

That fill thy lovely eyes !
No other light shall guide my steps
Till thy bright beams arise.

" She, the fair sun of all her sex,
Has blessed my glorious day ;
And shall a glimmering planet fix
My worship to its ray ?"

THE POET CAMPBELL IX THE CHAIR. 107

eyebrows masked in dye, and her once "lovely
eyes " hid behind a pair of goggles.

Our landlady made herself a very genial neigh-
bor to the forlorn old bachelor next door, for he
had patiently endured his threescore years and
ten or more in solitude ; but at last, before he
was many months older, he found Mrs. Munro
and her consoling possets, and other delicate at-
tentions, irresistible, and married her. I suspect
that the canny Scotchwoman was prudently alive
to the fact of Mr. Ainslie's enjoyment of a snug-
pension from the society of the Writers to the
Signet of Edinburgh, and of its reversion to his
widow.

The old gentleman was fond of keeping up his
associations with literature and literary men, and
took every opportunity of taking a part in any
public manifestation of which they were the
object. There was a printers' festival of some
kind, at which Thomas Campbell had promised
to preside. Mr. Ainslie, who had taken a- ticket,
urged me to take one, too, which I did gladly,
eager to see the famous poet, and expecting a
great gathering of all that were notable for gen-
ius and talent in Edinburgh.

We went, and found the printers in full force,
ranged on each side of long wooden tables or
narrow deal boards on trestles, facing little black

108 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

bottles of sherry-wine, and plates of " cookies,"
and almonds, and raisins ; for these were all the
material refreshments we had in exchange for
our payment of five shillings each.

There was not a distinguished personage to be
pointed out to me, much to the disappointment
of my venerable companion, and especially of my-
self, until the poet himself came, or rather was
brought, for he was accompanied by two per-
sons, each of whom seemed to be holding on to
an arm, and lifting him to his place. As soon as
his chair on the dais was reached, he sunk down
in it, and there remained like a log the whole
evening, giving no heed, apparently, to any per-
son or thing, except to the black bottles before
him. He may possibly have made a few inco-
herent attempts to speak, but there was no intel-
ligible speech from him ; and, as far as I recol-
lect, the whole festival collapsed into a free-and-
easy chat and private pledging of healths, which
the printers had all to themselves, striving to be
as merry as they could under the sad constraint
of the presence of the great genius in his eclipse.

On the appointment of Dr. Sharpey to a pro-
fessorship in the London University, I attend-
ed the anatomical lectures of his successor, Dr.
Handyside, and was occasionally a guest at his
house. At an evening party to which he invited

PROFESSOR BLACKIE IN YOUTH. 109

me I met Blackie, the present eminent Professor
of Greek in the University of Edinburgh. He
was then a very young man, just fresh from the
German Universities. All regarded him as an
eccentric genius, and he gave us proof at least of
the odd side of his character. He went striding
about the room, with his long black hair stream-
ing down to his shoulders, and his arms moving
with all sorts of strange gesticulations, bawling
out German songs, and declaiming German verses.
As he strode backward and forward, with his lit-
tle meagre body all in commotion, and his voice
hoarse with his recitations in a language unintel-
ligible to any person present, he seemed to be a
man possessed, and caused, evidently, great con-
sternation among the ladies, who anxiously drew
in their skirts, and shrunk behind the gentlemen.

110 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER IX.

The Winter Session. — Rush of Students. — The Classes. —
Students from Everywhere. — The Full-blooded Negro. —
Social Inversion. — Distinguished Students. — W — - of

Nottingham. — G of Newcastle. — Charles Maitland. —

Faith in Chemistry. — Samuel Brown. — Poet and Philoso-
pher.— Unity of Matter. — Professor Anderson of Glasgow.

THERE was an interval, no doubt, between the
close of the summer and opening of the winter
session of the University, but I do not recollect
how long it was, and in what way I passed it.

With the beginning of the winter or regular
session of six months, the attendance upon which
alone was obligatory, there was a great rush of
students from all parts of the world, but chiefly
from Scotland. The heavy gates of the Univer-
sity building were thrown wide open, and through
them thronged, at every hour of the day, large
crowds of youth, filling the wide quadrangle, be-
fore so deserted, and, as they rushed in and out
of the lecture-rooms, making the stone walls echo
with the hum of their voices and the pattering
of their feet. The number attending the vari-
ous departments of study must have been near-

STUDENT LORDS. Ill

ly two thousand, of whom seven or eight hundred
were medical students.

The " Humanity " classes, as the Greek and
Latin were termed, were principally composed
of Scotch youth — mostly a set of rough, rustic,
shabbily -dressed lads, with the true grit, how-
ever, of patient perseverance and hardy endur-
ance of sons of the manse, farm-house, counter
and shop, from the small towns and rural dis-
tricts. Among them was a small scattering — ea-
sily distinguished by a more dapper dress and
manner — of city -bred scions of landed gentry
and professional gentlemen.

The philosophical classes were mainly of the
same ; though the lingering tradition of the fame
of old teachers like Reid and Dugald Stewart,
and the increasing renown of the Professor of
Logic and Metaphysics, Sir William Hamilton,
attracted other students from England and vari-
ous parts of Europe. There were several of the
English aristocracy among them; a Lord Al-
tamont, son of the Marquis of Sligo, and two
young men of rank of the name of Paget, I can
only recollect, though, no doubt, there were oth-
ers. Times, however, had greatly changed since
those days when no aspiring young English
statesman — of Whig proclivities, at any rate —
regarded his preparation for public life complete

112 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

without a session or so at the University of Ed-
inburgh; and Lords Dudley and Webb Sey-
mour, the Homers, and Lord John Russell en-
rolled themselves as pupils of that eloquent and
suggestive teacher, the refined and philosophical
Dugald Stewart.

The medical classes, though still numerously
attended, had no longer the reputation of the
days of the two elder Munros and the Gregorys,
when students came in crowds from the extrem-
ities of the civilized world to witness their clear
and accurate demonstrations, and through their
convincing deductions learn the truths of the
healing art.

There were, however, still among the medical
students a few from the remote parts of the
earth. I myself, from distant New York, was a
proof of the fact that was self-evident ; and there
was another obvious to all — a full-blooded negro
from St. Domingo. I looked upon him with es-
pecial wonder, for I had come from a land. where
creatures of his color were regarded as mere
beasts of burden, to be bought, sold, and ex-
changed as chattels, and if not incapable of ed-
ucation, deemed unworthy of it; and to behold
this coal-black fellow holding up his head as
high as the best of us — much higher, in fact, than
most, for he was very proud in his bearing, and

NEGRO STUDENTS. 113

self-conscious of his importance, as the son and
heir of some Duke of Marmalade, Marquis of
Pineapple, or Baron Mango of his native land,
was a shock to my then obscured sense of the
proprieties. He had a white valet in livery al-
ways at his heels — a curious inversion, as it then
seemed to me, of the social order — and if he
kicked repeatedly, and otherwise ill-treated him,
as he was said to have done, the poor wretch
was only suffering vicariously for the wrongs
and cruelties inflicted by his own race upon that
of his master.

I recollect that there was a student of African
blood at the college in Hartford, Connecticut,
under very different circumstances of respect
from our negro comrade at the University of
Edinburgh. He was a modest, bright mulatto,
who by some academic artifice or other was sup-
posed to be pursuing his studies at the college,
though he never made his appearance in any of
the classes. He used to come out at night, and
at night only, from the back door and stairs of
a house of one of the professors near by, with
whom he was probably picking up some surrep-
titious scraps of learning. Although he passed
many years in the collegiate neighborhood, took
his degree, and finally, I think, became a clergy-
man of the Protestant Episcopal Church, he nev-
8

114 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

er exchanged a single word with any of the stu-
dents, or ventured to show himself except in the
shades of the evening. We had no more fel-
lowship with him than if he had been a gorilla
of his aboriginal wilds, and we deigned only to
cast a glance of suspicion at the poor fellow
whenever we caught a rare sight of his shrink-
ing shadow.

There were a good many roisterers among
the students ; but it must be acknowledged that,
though convivial habits were far too prevalent,
the great majority of my comrades at the Uni-
versity fairly carried out their purposes of study.
There were several young men whom I knew,
who showed a remarkable zeal for scientific pur-
suit, and some of them rose subsequently to dis-
tinction. Dr. Carpenter, the author of the " Phys-
iology," and professor in the University of Lon-
don, was my fellow-student; so was Reid, also a
professor, and famous for his physiological re-
searches ; and Day, the Chemist ; and Wilson, the
Professor of Technology; and Forbes, the Pro-
fessor of Natural History ; and Brown, the au-
thor of " Rab and his Friends." These all gave
promise, even while students, of the eminence to
which they subsequently reached. There were
others, however, of whom equally high, if not
higher, hopes were entertained, but who failed to

A SUCCESSFUL STUDENT. 115

accomplish the lofty aims of their youth ; some
from the inevitable fiat of fate, but more, alas !
in consequence of their self-chosen and perverse
ways of life.

W , of Nottingham, gave such proofs of

power while a student in Edinburgh, that it was
thought by all who knew him there was nothing
in the world worth having that he was not ca-
pable of acquiring. I hardly ever saw him in a
lecture -room, but he always passed his exami-
nations with great credit, and won all the prizes
for which he competed. He read the best pa-
pers, and was the ablest debater of the Royal
Medical Society, of which he became president.
He was a tall, raw-boned, bold-faced fellow, with
short, bristly hair, a broad, knotty forehead, and
flaming black eye ; and with his general defiant
air, and the habit he had of turning up the cuffs
of his coat-sleeves, seemed always as if he were
ready for a set-to with the whole world.

After taking his degree, he married and set-
tled in a large provincial town in England, where
he was appointed professor of the Medical Col-
lege, and continued those medico -chemical re-
searches to which he was ardently devoted. Al-
ready recognized and quoted everywhere as an
authority in science, he promised to obtain a
place among the highest on the roll of English

116 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

worthies, when the brilliant genius was suddenly
obscured, and finally lost forever in the self-in-
flicted ruin of the man. He had always, even
while a student, been fond of an occasional con-
vivial bout, and won a reputation for being as
deep a drinker as he was a thinker. These hab-
its of his youth, continued into his more mature
age, finally obtained the mastery over him, and
led him to perdition.

The career of G , of Newcastle, was an-
other illustration of blasted hopes. He evinced,
while a student, a great aptitude for physical
research, and became prominent as a winner of
prizes, and member of the Royal Medical Socie-
ty. He was ambitious, vain, and poor, and seem-
ed always to have an uneasy consciousness of his
threadbare coat, which made him very sensitive
to the proud man's contumely. He took his re-
venge by a boastful profession of extreme rad-
ical opinions, and a defiant bearing toward his
social superiors. After graduating, he made a
meteor-like start in his native town, but seeking
in London a wider field of display, and meeting
with disappointment, he was soon extinguished
in the vortex of the dark abominations of the
great metropolis; for, with all his unquestioned
ability and lofty aspirations, he was ever gravi-
tating toward the lowest vice.

A GENIUS. 117

Charles Maitland, of Brighton, impressed me
more than any other of my Edinburgh comrades
with the idea of a genius. He seemed to know
everything by intuition. I never saw him with
a book in his hand, and he seldom attended a
lecture. He, notwithstanding, appeared to be
well up in every subject connected with his pro-
fession, and always passed his examinations with
great credit.

He must, however, at some time have industri-
ously pursued analytical chemistry, in which he
was a great proficient. While a student of Pro-
fessor Turner, in London, he discovered a test for
morphia (nitric acid?), for which he is credited
in the work of his teacher, once the universal
manual of chemistry. He had quite a museum
of the results of his investigations as an analyst,
and, among others, a large glass bottle full of su-
gar, which he had obtained from the urine of a
diabetic patient. To show his faith in chemical
unity, or his superiority to all prejudice from ac-
cidental association, or his unwavering confidence
in his own skill as a manipulator, he used, much
to my disgust, to take lump after lump of this
sugar into his mouth, and suck it with more ap-
parent gusto than if it had been a French bon-
bon. To my protest, and expressions of horror,
he would reply, " It is chemically pure — it is gen-

118 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

nine sugar — C, H, O in due elementary propor-
tion as any other sugar; and, as it is that, it does
not matter whether it is derived from a vegeta-
ble or animal secretion. Come, taste it !" I was
not philosopher enough for that; and while I
conceded to him the best of the argument, I also
yielded to him the whole of the sugar.

He was never at rest, and passed most of his
days wandering over the hills and the mountains,
all alone. He used always to carry Avith him,
strapped to his back, a portable barometer, nomi-
nally for measuring heights, but I think, in reali-
ty, only to give an appearance of purpose to what
was nothing more than a vagrant mood.

Maitland belonged to a remarkable family.
His father was one of four brothers, all of whom
were officers of the English Army, and fought at
Waterloo. The eldest, Sir Peregrine Maitland, a
soldier of renown, had acquired great notoriety
in society by running away with the daughter of
the Duke of Richmond, and marrying her. He,
after undergoing some penance of supercilious
neglect from his noble father and mother in law,
was finally rewarded for his audacity in becom-
ing the husband of a Lenox, by elevation to a
baronetcy, and a succession of governorships.

The three other brothers, among whom was
my friend's father, were discharged simultane-

A HETERODOX PROFESSOR. 119

ously from the army for disobedience of orders,
having refused, when serving as officers in Mal-
ta, to give the command of " Present arms !"
to the soldiers under them, on the passing of
the "Host "iu a procession of Roman Catholics.
They all became, I think, clergymen of the Es-
tablished Church of England. The father of my
friend, at any rate, took orders, and was well-
known as the fervid evangelical preacher of
Brighton.

Young Maitland, while in Edinburgh, was very
ardent in his expression of devotional sentiment,
but it was of a heterodox kind ; for he professed
the peculiar tenets of one Campbell of Row (?)>
whom, and some of his wealthy followers, he of-
ten visited. Pie was fond of asserting his be-
lief in what he called " assurance," and used to
illustrate it by saying that if he fell down dead
on the instant, he was sure of going to heaven
— a doctrine which the Church of Scotland pro-
nounced heretical, and excommunicated my friend
Maitland's apostle (Campbell) for holding.

Maitland, soon after taking his degree, wrote a
work on the catacombs of Rome, which was well
received both by critics and readers. He has
given no further public evidence of vitality. He
seemed to have the capacity for great things, but
was too erratic and unsteadfast for the concen-

120 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

tratiou of purpose and continuousncss of effort
necessary to accomplish them.

Samuel Brown, a lineal descendant of Brown
the metaphysician, who succeeded Dugald Stew-
art as Professor of Mental Philosophy in the Uni-
versity of Edinburgh, was a remarkable youth.
He seemed to combine in his nature both the
poet and natural philosopher. He composed
sonnets and analyzed chemical compounds. He
was a philosophical dreamer as well as a practical
experimentalist; but the conceptions of his fancy
were impatient of the operations of his hand.

Brown's dominant idea was the unity of mat-
ter; and he announced to the world that he had
found, in the course of his manipulations in the
laboratory, a link in the chain of proof which
could not fail to lead to the establishment of the
fact. He had converted, he said, albumen into
iodine, or iodine into albumen, or something of
the kind, and contributed an elaborate paper, giv-
ing all the details of his experiments, to one of
the scientific journals or societies. His trustful
friends hailed him triumphantly at once as the
apostle of a new revelation in science.

Some sceptical chemists, however, among whom
was Liebig, repeated Brown's experiments, and,
finding that albumen remained albumen, and io-
dine iodine, in spite of all their manipulations,

A DELUSION-. 121

declared that the world had been deceived by a
false teacher. Brown defended himself, reassert-
ing his former statement, and declaring that a
repetition of his experiments had given precisely
the same results as before, showing that albumen
was iodine, and iodine albumen. Met anew by
denials and counter-statements of experimental
results, he still adhered pertinaciously to his orig-
inal assertion, until finally summoned to give a
convincing proof of its truth by a public exhi-
bition of his processes, he remained silent, and
slunk away into an obscure retirement, no longer
seen or heard of but by a few personal friends.
He soon died — it was thought of a broken heart.
His friends, who believed him to be the very soul
of truth, never doubted that he was sincere in his
repeated assertions of the results of his experi-
ments; but as they could not refuse to accept
the obvious proofs of their falsity, were fain to
reconcile their faith in Brown's veracity with the
evidence of scientific fact, by the supposition that
the imaginary had gained such a mastery over
the practical element of his character, that he had
been made unconsciously the victim of a delusion.
Brown was, undoubtedly, a youth of great abil-
ity. His knowledge and practical investigations
of chemistry were extensive. He was an elo-
quent speaker in the Speculative, Physical, and

122 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Medical Societies, a clear demonstrative lecturer,
and no contemptible poet, even while still a youth-
ful student. He had the mark of distinction in
his personal appearance. A neat, orderly person,
clothed in sober black, tall, delicately organized,
with a soft, almost tearful, abstracted eye, a pale,
expansive forehead, and a certain shadowy air of
remoteness in his whole manner and appearance,
he had the look of a spiritually-minded poet, and
abstract philosopher. He was respected by us all,
and by his personal friends he was worshipped.

I must not forget, while recalling the embryo
philosophers, my friend, Robert Anderson, of
Leith — a curly, light- haired, blue -eyed, ruddy-
faced, laughing youth, when I first knew him,
and whose acquaintance I afterward renewed
when he was a bald-headed, austere-looking Pro-
fessor of Chemistry in the University of Glasgow.
He was already distinguished, while a student, as
a skilful, practical chemist, and obtained the prize
for the most beautiful specimen I ever saw of
some crystals of a rare and difficult composition
— the kind and name of which I have forgotten —
due entirely to his own cunning manipulation.

THE REVELLERS. 123

CHAPTER X.

A Band of Revellers.— Making a Night of it. — The Two

Brothers R . — Their History. — A Mother, and not a

Mother. — A Victim to Slavery. — The Third Brother's

Fate. — Description of the R — — 's. — The Eldest R .

—A Fancy Ball.— The End of the Eldest.— The Younger

R in Paris. — Incidents of his Career. — Adventures

in England. — His Return to the United States.— Disap-
pearance.

I DID not seek companionship solely among
the young philosophers, but also, too frequently,!
am ashamed to be forced to acknowledge, in the
society of the wild roisterers and revellers of the
University. There was a full band of these liv-
ing together in the house of an old retired naval
surgeon, whose own habits, formed in the ward-
room and cockpit aboard ship, during many a
long cruise about the world, were not of the
most rigid sort. Most of these jovial fellows
were from the Western world — Newfoundland,
Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick; and two of

the wildest, the brothers R , were credited to

my own portion of the Continent, being natives

124 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

of New Orleans. I never, by chance, saw any of
them at a lecture but two, who were advanced
students, and working hard for the last exami-
nation.

The half-dozen others, including my two coun-
trymen, were as idle at their studies as they were
busy in mischief and dissipation. They used to
sally out every night systematically for a de-
bauch, after they had passed the whole of the
day in sleeping off the effects of a previous one.
Sometimes they began with a lounge at the thea-
tre, and sometimes with a match in the billiard-
room, but always closed with a drinking-bout at
the " Rainbow," or some other equally favored
place of convivial resort, whose patience of cred-
it their long unpaid scores had not yet exhaust-
ed. They never went home till morning, and not
always then. Fired with whiskey, they provoked
any late loiterers like themselves — or early labor-
ers going to their work — they might meet, by an
assault of some kind, either striking or hustling
them, or crushing their hats down over their
eyes. The result, of course, was a fight, and the
natural consequence, bruised shins and black eyes
in abundance, and frequent nights at the watch-
house. They all, or some of them, at least, were
never free from a very evident show of the ef-
fects of these nocturnal collisions, and looked

THE BROTHERS R . 125

mostly like well -mauled prize -fighters after a
regular set-to.

The two young countrymen of my own, the

brothers R , were not the least distinguished

of these wild revellers. Their father, who at the
time was regarded as one of the wealthiest mer-
chants in the United States, supplied his sons
with a most profuse allowance of money, and, in
their reckless expenditure of it, they were only
following his own example of prodigality. He
brought his boys the whole way from Liverpool
to Edinburgh in a post-chaise and four, throwing
away handfuls of gold on his right and left dur-
ing the route, and installing himself, on his ar-
rival, in the most expensive apartments of the
Royal Hotel, where, during his stay, he lived
like a prince.

His sons had been, for some time previous to
coming to Edinburgh, living in Liverpool in a
handsome residence, under the charge of a dai'k
woman — a quadroon from New Orleans. She,
though undoubtedly the mother of the three
boys under her care, was, by a cruel prohibition,
prevented from making the fact known to any
one, even to her own children ; who, being so
taught, continued to regard and treat her always
as a hired attendant. They had from her all the
care, tenderness, and devotion of maternal love,

126 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

while she, poor creature, had from them neither
filial affection nor even the acknowledgment of
the name of mother. She lived and died thus be-
reaved, and never ventured to whisper in words
her natural claims, though she vindicated them
hourly by the perpetual sacrifice of self, even to
the denial of her own personality, to the sup-
posed interests of her children. Slavery then
existed in the United States, and she, born a
slave, sold and bought a slave, lived in perpet-
ual torture, and died a victim to this monstrous
cruelty.

The third son — for there were three — I never
saw ; but I heard that he was an unmanageable
lad. On running away from school, he enlisted
as a hussar in the English army. He went to
India with his regiment, and was never heard of
again, being lost, possibly, in the jungle, or the
jaws of a tiger. The other two sons were my
fellow-students in Edinburgh. They were tall,
well-proportioned, good-looking young fellows,
of fair complexions, with the slightest possible
tint of brown, and of long, silky, and rather light
curly hair. Their features gave to the ordinary
observer no indication of their African origin
through their quadroon mother, but there was a
dilatation of the nostrils, a fulness of the upper
lip, and a certain heaviness of step, due to their

THE FANCY BALL. 127

large, spreading feet, which would have revealed
it to an expert. They were born slaves, and by
the laws of their native State of Louisiana might
have been sold, and bought, or seized for debt, as
any other exchangeable commodity. They were
evidently, however, unconscious of any legal deg-
radation, and bore themselves with as much grace,
freedom, and independence as any of the sons of
gentlemen with whom they daily associated.

The eldest was fond of society, and frequented
some of the highest circles in Edinburgh. He
always dressed in the height of fashion, and his
annual tailor's bill would more than have paid
for a year's support of some of the by no means
least thriving of his fellow-students. I accom-
panied him, I recollect, to the fancy ball at the
Assembly Rooms, where he made his appearance
in the costume of a courtier of the time of Fran-
cis the First of France — slashed velvet doublet,
satin hose, plumed bonnet, and gold-hilted sword
complete, the whole of which cost him sixty
pounds, or three hundred dollars.

The fancy ball was for the benefit of the In-
firmary, and was a very exclusive affair. I did
not venture to appear in a character costume, but
in a dress which certainly would now be regard-
ed as an eminently fanciful one, although it was
such as was generally worn on the occasion. My

128 MY COLLEGE DAY-.

black dress-coat de rigueur had the inside of its
tails lined with white satin, my waistcoat was
embroidered silk of divers bright colors, and I
wore pnmps and white silk stockings. No one
could obtain a ticket of admission to the ball
without having secured a preliminary guarantee
of his social fitness, in the form of a " voucher,"
as it was termed, of respectability, signed by a
dozen " Lady Patronesses." Every tradesman of
the town was rigorously ruled out.

The expenses of the eldest R became final-
ly so inordinate that even his prodigal father pro-
tested against, though he paid them. He insist-
ed, however, that he should leave Edinburgh,
which he accordingly did, and went to Dublin.
Here he met his good angel, in the form of the
daughter of the surgeon with whom he was dom-
iciled. He fell in love with her, and, through her
influence, devoting himself seriously to his stud-
ies, succeeded in passing his examination as a
surgeon. He then married and went to Canada
— the only refuge, at that time, of his wronged
race — where he became a respectable practitioner
of medicine.

The brother remained in Edinburgh, finding,
unfortunately, no kind providence in sweetheart,
wife, or indeed in any form, to interpose and
check his reckless career of dissipation. I left

A DISSIPATED CAREER. 129

him still lingering at the University when I de-
parted, hopeful of a degree, bnt seemingly mak-
ing no efforts to obtain it.

When I had been a year or more in Paris, I
met him accidentally, and he told me that, after
several unsuccessful attempts, he had finally grad-
uated. I induced him to take up his quarter in
the lodging-house where I lived. He came ; but,
try as I might, I could not prevail upon him to
reform his habits of dissipation, for the indul-
gence of which, with a more confirmed inclina-
tion, he met in the French capital greater facili-
ties than ever.

His father was no longer the rich man of 1836
and 1837, for the mercantile crash of 1838 and
1839 had come, and, having overwhelmed the once
flourishing house of which he was the chief part-
ner, left him, on his escape from its ruins, noth-
ing but the refuge of a small cotton plantation in
Mississippi, which had been conceded to him by
the indulgence of his creditors. He, however,
managed to allow his son from his greatly re-
duced income the sum of eight hundred dollars
a year. With each quarter's remittance came a
letter of urgent appeal to a reformation of life,
and a reminder of the limits of paternal forbear-
ance and supply, but it was all in vain.

The young fellow persisted in his perverse
9

130 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ways, until, finally, his father, provoked to extrem-
ities, revealed to him his birth, and at the same
time, while diminishing his allowance, threatened
to cut him off entirely. The effect was the re-
verse of what it is hoped his father intended.
The poor youth cried out to me in despair, "I
am a bastard ! I am a bastard ! and I will de-
stroy myself." It would have been better, per-
haps, if, in carrying out his resolution, he had
swallowed some quick active poison. He took
the no less certain but slower means of drinking
himself to death — a process with which he had
been daily growing more familiar.

On each quarter's day, as soon as he received
his remittance and exchanged his draft at the
banker's, he would cram his pockets with the
large silver five-franc pieces, which were then in
general currency in. France, and sally out to the
cafes and worse resorts, until he spent all to the
last sou, when he was generally brought home in
a fit of insensibility from drunkenness.

On one occasion he stumbled into my room
when intoxicated, and observing that his coat,
waistcoat, and all his other pockets were cram-
med with five-franc pieces, I emptied them out,
and locked up the money in my drawer. He did
not resist in the least, and perhaps was totally
unconscious of what I had clone. Several weeks

EFFECT OF A REMITTANCE. 131

afterward I found him in a state of great discon-
solation, grieving over his poverty, and telling
me piteously that his landlady threatened to put
him out-of-doors if he did not immediately pay
her the last quarter's board. I bade him send
for the woman, and I would settle with her.
When I had paid the bill, which amounted to
several hundred francs, and he was in the full
expression of his gratitude for my apparent gen-
erosity, I told him the money was his own, and
how I happened to possess it. He could hard-
ly be made to believe me, for he had not the
least recollection of my having taken it from his
person.

On another occasion, while he was in his high
jinks just after having received a remittance, the
landlady appealed to me, in the middle of the
night, to go to his room to do what I could
to allay the frightful noises which were issuing
from it. I no sooner rapped at the locked door
and mentioned my name, for I was always a
privileged person with him, than I was let in —

and such a sight ! My young friend R , in

the full costume of a Turk, but "disguised" in
liquor like any Christian, stood holding on to
the door of the disordered room, where bedding,
bolsters, pillows, sheets and coverlets, table and
chairs, were heaped up together in confusion,

132 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

while two women, all bedizened with paint and
masked-ball-finery, were crouching under the bed-
stead, where they had tried to hide themselves
on becoming aware of my approach. There had
been a fracas in consequence of jealousy, or dis-
satisfaction of some kind, and one of the females,
in her fury, had begun to toss about the contents
of the room. Hence the noise. I persuaded the
Grand Turk to dismiss his harem, and the house
was again restored to its habitual quietude.

Young R remained a long time in Paris,

with the single advantage of acquiring a thor-
ough knowledge of the French tongue. I met
him several years afterward in New York, and
in such a state of flourishing vitality as showed
that his chosen process of self-destruction had
been thus far very slow in operating. He gave
me some account of the vicissitudes of life through
which he had passed since I parted with him in
Paris. Destitute of means, for his father had
cut off his allowance, he had wandered into Eng-
land, where he gained a precarious livelihood for
some time in teaching French in a country town.
Subsequently he had made the acquaintance of
an English banker, who had taken such a fancy
to him that he appointed him a clerk in his bank-
ing-house. My friend was in the full tide of
prosperity, with a fair hope of a future partner-

A TRAGEDY. 133

ship, when, some defalcation having occurred, he
became the object for a time, though unjustly
so, as he told me and I sincerely believe, of sus-
picion, and was forced to leave.

After leaving England, he paid a visit to a
former college comrade living at St. Johns, New

Brunswick. This was B , whom I knew well,

a congenial companion of R in his Avild

moods at Edinburgh. The visit had a tragic

O O

termination ; for, during a sporting expedition,

B was accidentally shot, and fell dead.

R seemed to carry with him a malignant in-
fluence wherever he went.

When I saw him in New York, he had just
returned from a visit to his father on the plan-
tation in Mississippi, where he found a cousin in
full possession of the favor and recognized as the
heir-to-be of a property to which he thought he
himself had the higher claim. Quarrelling with
this cousin, and dissatisfied with the conduct of
his father, he parted with them in anger, and was
once more adrift in the wide world. On taking
leave of me, he proposed to visit his brother in
Canada. I never saw or heard of him again.

134 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XI.

The Brothers F . — An American Claimant for a Scotch

Title. — A Retired and Happy Life. — Sudden Aspirations.
— Lord Lovat. — Devotion of a Clan. — A Long Suit in Ed-
inburgh.— Luxury and the Jews. — A Day of Reckoning.
— An Adverse Decision. — Family Ruin. — The Eldest Son.
— The Survivors of a Wreck. — Another American Claim-
ant.— Precocious Benevolence. — A Triumph. — Final Re-
sult.

THERE were three young Americans, the broth-
ers F , who were picking up a miscellaneous

education at the University. They occasionally
attended the classes, and always frequented the
company of the students. I made their acquaint-
ance, and through them that of their family, who
were living at Edinburgh.

The father, if not a Scotchman by birth, of
Scottish origin, was a clergyman of the Presby-
terian Church of the United States. While set-
tled in some part of South Carolina, in the per-
formance of the ordinary parochial duties of his
profession, he was suddenly convinced of the fea-
sibility of his claim to the barony and estate of
Lovat of Scotland, which had been escheated on

A CONTENTED PASTOK. 135

the execution of Simon, Lord Lovat, for taking
part with Prince Charles in the Scotch rebellion
of 1746.

The Rev. Mr. F had always boasted him-
self a lineal descendant of this famous rebel, but,
notwithstanding the long proclaimed amnesty
and restoration in England of forfeited titles and
estates, had hitherto showed no inclination to
substantiate his pretensions, but seemed content-
ed with the obscure position of a rural pastor,
the duties of which, moreover, he performed with
fidelity, and to the full satisfaction of his humble
charge. He had married an American whom I
knew — a woman still retaining, in advanced life,
much of the beauty for which she was remarka-
ble in her youth, and all that refined amiability
of manner and character which ever distinguished
her. With three promising sons and two hand-
some daughters, they lived a simple but content-
ed life, happy themselves, and with a fair pros-
pect of future happiness and prosperity for their
children.

In the mean time, the Lovat estate in Inverness-
shire, in Scotland — a very extensive and valuable
property — had been ceded by the English Com-
missioners or Scotch courts, or whomsoever the
authority was held, to a Mr. Fraser, an influential
Catholic gentleman, on his claim as the nearest

136 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

living descendant of the executed Simon, Lord
Lovat. He, accordingly, was in the possession
and full enjoyment of the estate, and no one ap-
peared to dispute his right, not even the boasted
lineal offshoot in South Carolina. It is possible
that the modest clergyman, in his far Western
retreat, in happy unconsciousness of amnesty or
restoration of estates, may have known nothing
of the splendid property of his boasted ances-
tors being in abeyance. At any rate, the Scotch
Fraser was met by no opposing claim, from the
American at least, and entered into the posses-
sion of the Lovat estate without a protest from
him.

The fortunate possessor, however, not content
with the estate alone, claimed also the title. He
failed, however, from some break in his line of
descent, to satisfy the full requirements of the
courts or the House of Lords, and his claim was
rejected. Notwithstanding this defeat, he be-
came Lord Lovat, but not the Lord Lovat. The
Whigs were then in power, and, as Mr. Fraser of
Lovat was an influential adherent of their party,
they conferred upon him an English peerage with
the same title— Lord Lovat — with the addition,
however, of an earldom, as he would have borne
had he been successful in his claim to the Scotch
barony.

CLAIMING AN ESTATE. 137

The American pretender had become cogni-
zant of these facts by the chance perusal of a
paragraph in an English or Scotch paper, which
had drifted into the remote corner of the world
where he lived, or in some other hap-hazard way,
and his aspirations to rank and wealth were
at once awakened. Convinced, no doubt, of his
right, and believing that he could prove it, he re-
solved to go to Scotland without delay, to prose-
cute his claim to the Scotch barony and estate of
Lovat. He accordingly, on the instant, resigned
his church, severed his long connection with his
flock, abandoned the ministry, broke asunder all
his associations of friendship and country, turn-
ed what -little available property he had into
ready money, and embarked with his wife and
family for Europe.

His first visit, on arriving in Scotland, was to
Inverness-shire, where the Lovat estate lies. Here
he was received, I was told, with great demon-
strations of devotion by all the tenants and the
members of the clan Fraser, who hailed him as
the genuine laird, and accepted him as their au-
thentic chief. In earlier days, this intuitive rec-
ognition, backed by the claymores of a host "of
stalwart Highlanders, might have seated him in
the hall of his fathers, in spite of any rival in pos-
session, though sustained by law and authority.

138 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Times, however, had changed, and the pretend-
er could only make good his claims through the
slow and costly processes of the legal courts.
He therefore repaired to Edinburgh, where he
settled with his family, and began the tedious
suit at law which was to end, as he hoped, in
making him not only the possessor of all the ti-
tles, hereditaments, and possessions appertaining
to the true Lord of Lovat, but of the mesne prof-
its in addition, for which the false incumbent was
responsible.

The mere preliminary expenses and retainers
to counsel soon exhausted the small supply of
funds brought from America, and the poor client
was forced to have recourse to the Jews ; and
when I first made the acquaintance of his family,
they were living luxuriously on means derived,
it was said, from that fatal source.

Year after year passed without a decision of
the main question, though, now and then, some
collateral issues were settled, which bore adverse-
ly, however, on the case of the American client.
He and his family still kept up a vague hope of
a distant accession to rank and wealth, while the
approach of the day of reckoning, by no means
so remote, was sure and certain. The money-
lenders becoming more and more extortionate,
and their grudging supplies so small, that the

AN ADVERSE DECISION. 139

claimant found it difficult to meet both the de-
mands of the lawyers and the requirements of
living of his family. They were, in consequence,
soon reduced to such straits that the would-be
Lord Lovat would have gladly exchanged all his
splendid hopes of rank and wealth for the sim-
plest station and competence, and no doubt bit-
terly regretted his abandonment of the happy
though obscure home in Carolina. After many
years of wearying expectation and exhausting
expense, there was a decision of the case of
F - versus Lord Lovat. It was adverse to

The ruin of himself and family was finally con-
summated. The long-deferred hope had already
shown its fatal effects. The wife had died of a
broken heart; the eldest daughter, a beautiful girl,
unable, in the uncertainty of her position, to fix
her affections, became a victim of disappointment,
and did not long survive her mother ; the third
son, careless and irregular, met with an early
death ; and the father, seeking relief from the
enforced idleness of his changed position, and
the depression of his spirits, induced by the fre-
quent fluctuations of hope and despair, resorted
to means which soon brought his life to an ig-
nominious close.

The eldest son was a youth of much talent,

140 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

and, being fond of study, might, if he had been
able to concentrate his attention in the pursuit
of any particular profession, have arisen to dis-
tinction. Led, however, from an early period of
his life to believe that he was probable heir to a
title and great estate, he could not devote him-
self to the necessary work for any special voca-
tion of a humbler life. His taste for study was
consequently wasted in desultory reading, and
his unquestionable abilities were exhausted in
the mere conversational and social triumphs of
the hour. After the disappointment of his high
hopes in Scotland he repaired to New York,
where I occasionally met him by hazard, as, with
increasing poverty and diminishing self-respect,
he was shy of recognition by his former friends.
After occasional glances of him as he flitted
round the corners, or passed rapidly through the
by-streets, looking, in his meagre habiliments, like
a fitful ghost of his former respectability, I finally
lost sight of him altogether.

On this wreck of a family, there were two so
fortunate as to secure a harbor of safety. The
second son studied theology, and, becoming a
clergyman of the established Church of Scot-
land, received the appointment of minister of the
Scotch Church in Bombay. The only surviving
daughter married a young physician, and went

ANOTHER AMERICAN CLAIMANT. 141

also to India with her husband, who had received
some good medical appointment there.

I met in Edinburgh another American claim-
ant to an estate in Scotland, Ferdinand Campbell
Stewart. I recognized in him a former fellow-
student in Philadelphia, where he was the assist-
ant of the chemical professor, Dr. Hare. Though,
of course, very familiar with his looks, I had had
no personal acquaintance with him until first rec-
ognizing him in the botanical class in Edin-
burgh I became, in the course of time, his inti-
mate friend. He and I were frequently in each
other's rooms, dining and supping together.

Stewart was a diligent attendant at the med-
ical lectures, though the principal object of his
visit to Edinburgh was business in connection
Avith the lawsuit he was then prosecuting in the
Scotch courts. He had often his lawyer with
him, a writer of the signet ; and I recollect meet-
ing this gentleman and his little daughter at my
friend's chambers one morning at breakfast. We
had an abundant supply of those large and lus-
cious strawberries for which Edinburgh is fa-
mous. I, either having eaten my full share of
them and had enough, or, being too modest to
accept of more, resisted the pressing solicita-
tions of my friend, who, however, continued them
v;ith such urgency, that the little girl, who could

142 MY COLLEGEXDAYS.

not have been more than seven or eight years
old, interposed in my behalf, saying, in a very
gentle, compassionate tone, " Oh ! dinna press the
laddie." We all burst into a hearty laugh, much
to the poor child's discomfiture, at this preco-
cious exhibition of considerate sympathy.

My friend's father was the younger son of a
Scotch laird, and, obliged to shift for himself, had
emigrated to the United States ; and, being a man
of considerable scientific acquirements, was ap-
pointed professor of chemistry in William and
Mary College, of Virginia. His elder brother
had inherited and was in the enjoyment of the
patrimonial estate, Ascog, a handsome property
in the Isle of Bute. He married a widow, with
a daughter by a former husband, but never had
any children by her himself. On the prospect
of death, during his last illness he made a will
by which he bequeathed the estate of Ascog, the
entail of which had expired, to his wife and her
child.

Without any direct issue himself, and without
any special legal devise on his part, the estate
would have descended in course to the father of
my friend. This the brother, the Laird of As-
cog, strove to prevent by his will ; but, as his will
was executed during an illness which resulted in
death, it became, according to Scotch law, void

A SUCCESSFUL SUITOR. 143

and of no effect. Upon this ground ray friend's
father laid his claim, and instituted proceedings
in the courts of Edinburgh to establish it. As
he, however, was incapacitated by indisposition,
caused, it was said, in consequence of the sudden
prospect of wealth on the death of his brother,
my acquaintance, his eldest son, was represent-
ing his interests and those of his family in the
prosecution of the case.

I sat by him when the decision was rendered
by the Scotch law-lords. It was in his favor,
and he was so moved with excitement and de-
light that I could hardly hold him down in his
seat; in fact, he seemed ready to leap out of his
clothes in the convulsive tumult of his joy. This
decision, however, was not final, for the defeat-
ed defendants appealed to the House of Lords.
Here, however, my friend again triumphed. Stew-
art, subsequently, lived and practised his profes-
sion as a doctor with success in the city of New
York, while at the same time he seemed to be in
the enjoyment of the means of a man of fortune,
the proceeds, no doubt, of the Scotch estate for
which he had been a successful suitor.

144 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XII.

General Disunion of Students. — A Remarkable Exception.
— Political Unanimity. — Prevalence of Toryism. — Influ-
ence of Tory Professors. — Professor Wilson's Example
and Teachings. — Royal Medical Society. — Its Traditions.
— Sir James Mackintosh. — The Brunonian Controversy.
• — Speculative Society. — Botanical and Geological Tours.
— Exercises. — New Haven. — Huntsmen and Horsemen. —
The Theatre. — Church Intolerance.— Studies for a De-
gree.— Examinations. — Defence of Thesis. — An Exami-
nation Passed. — The Three Munros.

THE students were scattered all about the town,
generally living in private lodgings — many, no
doubt, very scantily provided for in lofty quar-
ters and with low diet, perched eight or nine flats
high, and cultivating literature on the tenui ave-
nd — the little oat-meal of Sydney Smith. They
only met together in large numbers while attend-
ing the classes, and then divided into sections,
according to their studies, and for no more than
an hour at a time, at different periods of the day.

The students did not, therefore, form a very
homogeneous body, and I cannot recall but one
occasion when they were united together in the

ENTHUSIASM EXHIBITED. 145

manifestation of a common sentiment or motive.
This, curiously enough, was for an object quite
remote from all academic interests, and of a kind
which would have hardly been thought to move
at all, and much less with any unanimity, hun-
dreds of youth socially and nationally so diverse.
They met together in full force to protest against
some measure of the Whig ministry.

There was hardly a single student absent from
the gathering, and the speeches and resolutions
were received with a demonstration of enthusi-
asm of which the voice and muscles of robust
youth are alone capable. My countryman, the

elder F , presided on the occasion, and, rising

and coming forward boldly on the platform, de-
livered a long speech explanatory of the object
of the meeting. He, with his erect audacious
presence as he faced the large audience, his black
frock-coat buttoned up to the throat, his hair
turned defiantly back from his forehead, and hat
in hand, looked, and with his loud peremptory
voice, his sledge-hammer action, his positive state-
ments, and his emphatic expression of them, ac-
quitted himself, like a practised parliamentary
orator addressing his constituents from the hust-
ings. American though he was, he, of course,
had forgotten all the traditional sentiments of
his republican native land, and, yielding himself
10

146 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

up entirely to the inspiration of the hoped-for
barony and domain of Lovat, his speech was
as anti-progressive as any Tory lord or landed
proprietor in the country might have delivered.
There is no doubt, if my friend had been the Con-
servative candidate for Parliament, and an elec-
tion had taken place, he would have been at the
head of the poll, with an overwhelming majority
of the votes in his favor, and the Liberal candi-
date nowhere.

The Edinburgh students of all classes were, at
that time, Tories to a man — to a boy, I might say,
for most of them were not out of their teens. It
seems strange that it should be so, for most youth,
with the natural hopefulness of their inexperi-
enced age, are inclined toward change and prog-
ress. In France, Italy, Germany, and Russia,
the students, if interested in public affairs at all,
have always been ranged on the Liberal side. The
mutterings of an impending political storm are
generally first heard in the coffee and beer houses
of the French and German students, while they
are ever the most forward to expose themselves
to the buffetings of the revolutionary outburst,
and the earliest to suffer and die among the vic-
tims of its ravages.

The Conservative sentiments of the Edinburgh
students were attributable, perhaps, to the fact

INFLUENCE OF PEOFESSOR WILSON. 147

that a majority of the professors were Tories;
and some of the most popular ones were not
merely passive adherents, but active partisans of
their cause. "Wilson, the Professor of Moral Phi-
losophy and Political Economy — the Christopher
North of Slackwood — was the most prominent of
these, and as he was universally admired and be-
loved by the students, his example and opinions
exercised a great influence over them. To think
as he thought, and to do as he did, seemed at that
time the very acme of good-sense and right con-
duct. If this influence had been merely polit-
ical, it might have hardly deserved a passing
comment, for whether college lads are Whigs or
Tories, Conservatives or Radicals, is probably of
little importance to themselves, and certainly of
none to the State. Their political opinions are
nothing else than a caprice of the moment, to be
varied by the interests of their future settled
position in life. The Tory germ of blue may
burst forth into the full-blown Radical flower of
red ; or, as is more probable, will wither and die
away altogether for want of stimulus to growth.
It was the more permanent influence of the
writings of Christopher North upon the habits
of intellectual young men which was a serious
evil, for, by a curious antithesis of destiny, the
professor of moral philosophy became an incul-

148 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

cator of immoralities. His Noctes Ambrosiance
and other editorial rhapsodies, " Christopher with
his Rod and Creel," " Christopher in his Shoot-
ing-jacket," " Christopher on the Moors," "Chris-
topher on Colonsay," and such -like, however
much they may have been inspired by genius,
were never free from a strong flavor of whiskey ;
and it is not astonishing that the young students,
who delighted in their perusal, should have con-
founded the effect of the one with that of the
other. Finding literary effort so constantly as-
sociated with sensual indulgence, they began to
think the two inseparable ; and with the example
of their favorite professor ever before them, sel-
dom drank of the Pierian spring without a large
admixture of Glenlivet or Islay in their potations.
I am convinced that many young men of prom-
ise thus acquired habits of indulgence which not
only proved fatal to the bright hopes their tal-
ents had awakened, but led to their final ruin
and disgrace.

The various societies served, to a certain de-
gree, as a bond of union among some of the stu-
dents, but only the few superior youth, and those
zealous for improvement, were members of them.
The Royal Medical Society, as it was grandly
termed, had some traditions of which it was just-
ly proud. Among its associates there had been

THE BRUNONIAN CONTROVERSY. 149

several who had risen to great distinction in the
world. Sir James Mackintosh, who had begun
his career as a student of medicine, and gradu-
ated from the University of Edinburgh as a phy-
sician, was one of the presidents of the society,
and most active members. He used to say that,
long before he knew the difference between Ep-
som salts and common table salt, he discussed all
medical questions, and gave his opinion with the
authority of an Hippocrates. The youth, in my
time, were hardly less oracular in their enuncia-
tions, though it is hoped they were based upon a
more extensive foundation of knowledge.

The great Brunonian controversy, as it was
called, which had so stirred the medical circles
of Edinburgh a century ago, was still remember-
ed as associated with the medical society, where
its controversies raged with more fierceness than
elsewhere. The members were generally ranged
on the side of Brown ; but one daring youth, then
a president of the society, ventured to profess
himself an adherent of Cullen, his opponent. He
was provoked, in consequence, to a duel, and sac-
rificed his life to his opinions. Brown and his
followers were all for stimulants in the treatment
of disease, while Cullen and his were all against
them. Brown finally died a victim to his doc-
trine ; for, having the courage of his opinions, he

150 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

drank himself to death. He never lectured with-
out a bottle of brandy before him, as modern lect-
urers have their decanter of water. He was a
very plausible man, and succeeded in establish-
ing a system of practice which a hundred years
ago held wide sway, the effects of which were
still evident in my day.

The business of the medical society was the
reading of papers on medical or cognate sub-
jects, and subsequently discussing them. There
was a good library of reference, and a reading-
room with a well-spread table of scientific and
other periodicals, among which the Tory Slack-
wood was conspicuous. After each weekly ses-
sion the members hurried into the refreshment-
room below, and over their chocolate and cakes
became college boys again, joyous in their relief
from the formalities of the little senate above.

Some few of the medical students, ambitious
of oratorical distinction, joined the Speculative
Society, but it was principally composed of the
more advanced law students and aspiring young
advocates of the Parliament House. This was
the society of which Brougham, Horner, and Jef-
frey in their youth were members, and where they
first essayed their wings before venturing on lof-
tier flights. There were other associations of a
scientific — as the " Physical " — and of a literary

BOTANICAL AND GEOLOGICAL TOURS. 151

kind ; but the mass of students took no interest
in them, finding in the requirements of college
studies sufficient exercise for all the mental ac-
tivity to which they were disposed.

The professors of botany and natural history,
including geology and mineralogy, used to bring
together, on an occasional Saturday, a goodly
number of the members of their classes, and lead
them, equipped with hammers, geological sacks,
and botanical boxes, on long stretches of many
miles about the country in search of stones,
weeds, and fossils. These walks, which often,
especially under the guidance of the indefatiga-
ble Graham, Professor of Botany, extended to a
length of forty miles or more, were the only ex-
ercises of a systematic kind much practised by
the students, who never banded together for any
sort of athletic game.

They skated, however, when the season rare-
ly permitted, on Duddingstone Loch, a beautiful
stretch of deep water on the outskirts of Edin-
burgh, upon the wooded bank of which was sit-
uated the picturesque cottage manse of Thomp-
son, the artist-clergyman. The loch was exces-
sively deep, and it was only during a very severe
winter that it was frozen sufficiently hard for
any to venture upon the ice. When it was in
safe condition, it became a scene of great gayety,

152 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

all the fashionable people of Edinburgh turning
out to look at the skaters and curlers, who were
always in great force. In summer there was oc-
casional bathing from the sands of Portobello.

Voluntary walks, of course, were frequently
taken to Leith and Granton Pier, and oftener
still to the famous tavern in New Haven, where
dinners were served through half a dozen courses
of fish exclusively, with free admission, however,
at each remove, of wine and whiskey. At New
Haven is the ancient settlement of the fishing
colony, said to have come originally from Hol-
land, whose men are so daring on the sea, and
women so enticing on land, and all brave, hon-
est, and true. It is from here come those pict-
uresque-looking fish-women with laced caps, gay-
ly striped petticoats, and blue bodices, who are
seen and their voices heard in every street of
Edinburgh, crying, "Caller haddies !" "Caller
hose !" (fresh haddocks, fresh oysters). In a
word, New Haven was the home of Christie
Johnson, a genuine fish-wife, whose portrait Reid
has so charmingly and truthfully painted.

Some few of the students occasionally follow-
ed the hounds, and I recollect a young English-
man attending the anatomy class in full hunts-
man's rig of scarlet coat, white cords, top-boots,
and spurs, and, on coming out, mounting his nag

COLLEGE SPORTSMEN. 153

at the University gates, where his groom had
been walking the animal about during the lect-
ure. There was now and then a tandem to be
seen, but merely turned out for the occasion from
the shabby resources of a livery-stable. Only one
student, of whom I knew, kept his horse ; he was
a young East Indian, of a milk-and-molasses com-
plexion, a showily dressed, ostentatious fellow.
He was fond of parading his animal — a diminu-
tive cob, with a close-shaven hide and a brush
tail — up and down the principal streets, with the
smallest possible boy, " Tiger," as he was called,
perched on the saddle, with black beaver hat and
cockade, white cravat, gray livery coat, leather
breeches, belt, and yellow-topped boots, all com-
plete.

The theatre was, of course, a constant resource
of diversion. The manager was that clever act-
or and most worthy citizen, Murray. His wife
was the sister of the great Mrs. Siddons's hus-
band. There were two ladies, one of the name
of Siddons, and the other Kemble, who were joint
occupants with me of a pew in the York Place
church, whei-e, after leaving the little chapel in
Carubbers Close, I became a regular attendant.
It was always in the English church where act-
ors and actresses congregated ; for the Scotch
Kirk, with a disgraceful intolerance, would not

154 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

admit any of the dramatic profession to the priv-
ileges of its communion. It was in the little old
theatre of Edinburgh that Home's " Douglas "

o o

was first represented, which representation near-
ly cost the reverend author his pulpit, for he
barely escaped excommunication ; though he re-
ceived a severe reprimand from his Church, not
because he had written a tragedy, but that the
wicked folk of that abomination of abominations,
the theatre, had ventured to put it on the stage.

There was, of course, in a capital city like that
of Edinburgh, every opportunity for the gratifi-
cation of individual tastes, whatever they might
be, and this was freely availed of; but it may be
said of the students generally that they devoted
themselves with fair attention to the main pur-
pose of their residence in Edinburgh, without
being greatly distracted from it by the pursuits
of pleasure.

To obtain the degree of doctor of medicine in
the University of Edinburgh, a course of study
of four years' duration was required. In each
year there were two sessions — a winter one of six,
and a summer one of three months. Attendance
during the winter sessions was alone obligatory ;
although two summer sessions, at least, were at-
tended by almost every student, as being most
convenient for the pursuits of botany and natu-

DIFFERENT COURSES OF LECTURES. 155

ral history. There were eleven different courses
of lectures upon these various subjects : Chemis-
try, Anatomy, Physiology, Materia Medica, Prac-
tice of Medicine, Pathology, Midwifery, Surgery,
Medical Jurisprudence, Botany, and Natural His-
tory. All of these courses had to be attended
or paid for, at least, at the rate of about five
guineas, or twenty-five dollars each, twice during
the whole course of study of four years. At-
tendance was also required for at least six
months at a laboratory of practical chemistry,
the dissecting-room, the "hospital, and dispensary.
There were three examinations; the prelimi-
nary one to test the candidate's knowledge of
the Latin language, which might be passed at
any time at the discretion of the student, before
the first medical examination which took place
at the end of the third year, and consisted of
Botany, Natural History, Chemistry, Anatomy,
and Physiology. The final examination on Ma-
teria Medica, Practice of Medicine, Pathology,
Midwifery, Surgery, and Medical Jurisprudence
was at the end of the fourth year, when the stu-
dent, having presented his thesis on some medi-
cal or cognate subject, and " defended " it, as it
was technically termed, was admitted to the de-
gree of M.D. (Doctor of Medicine). These exam-
inations, always in the presence of at least three

156 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

of the professors, were in the English language,
and vivd voce; although but a few years before
I joined the University they had been conduct-
ed in Latin, as also the " defence " of the thesis,
which, too, was required to be written in that
language.

The " defence " of the thesis, as it was grand-
ly called, was little more, as far as I recollect, in
my time than an exchange of courtesies with the
professor, and mutual congratulations upon the
termination of an affair which had really never
begun ; in fact, a mere ceremonial which each
regarded as a bore, and was glad to be rid of.

No one, of course, was admitted to the second
without having passed the first examination, nor
to the third without having passed the second.
At the close of each examination, the manner in
which the student had passed it was indicated by
the marks M (male, badly), SB (satis bene, suffi-
ciently well),B (bene, well), and VB (valde bene,
very well).

As I was fearful what little Latin I had
brought away from college might give me the
slip, I hastened to make the best use of it I
could while it remained in my keeping, so I im-
mediately offered myself for the first examina-
tion, which I had'no difficulty in passing. I was
merely called upon to construe a few passages

WINTER LECTURES. 157

selected indiscriminately from Cicero's De Na-
turd Deorum, Celsius, and Gregory's Conspectus,
all easy of translation by the average school-boy.
During my first winter session I attended four
courses of lectures — Anatomy, Physiology, Chem-
istry, and Materia Medica. The Professor of
Anatomy was Munro tertius, as he was called —
being the third of the three Munros, father, son,
and grandson, who had been professors in the
same department.

MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XIII.

Mnnro Tertius. — A Nonchalant Professor. — Calling Cards.
— A Personal Description. — Strange Illustration of Filial
Affection. — First Sight of Pickwick. — A Dignified Pro-
fessor.— Hope. — Resplendent Demonstrations. — Kemp. —
Compression of Gases. — A Great Chemical Feat. — Antic-
ipation of Modern Discovery. — The Eclipse of a Man of
Genius.

MUNRO primus was great, Munro secundus
greater, and Munro tertius the least; so much so,
in fact, and at such a distance from his two fa-
mous predecessors, as not to be thought of for a
moment in comparison with them. Munro ter-
tius was very proud of his name, as well he
might be, for it had been everything to him, as
without it he certainly never would have had his
professorship, or been held in any consideration
whatsoever. He was totally inefficient as a lect-
urer and teacher; and if he had ever known
much of anatomy, he had forgotten the better
part of it.

His lectures were attended but by a very few,
•. and would have been by none, had it not been
for the fun of it. He seemed to be quite indif-

MUNKO " TERTIUS." 159

ferent whether the students came or not. They
were obliged, he knew, to buy his tickets ; and
happy, as he put the money in his pocket, in the
consciousness of this fact, he cared not where
they went for their anatomy, which he must have
known he himself could not supply.

Every student, without exception, while com-
pelled to pay for two courses of Munro's lect-
ures, where he certainly could learn nothing, took
lessons, at no small cost, from some private teach-
er of anatomy, by whom there was a chance of
being taught something. This created a great
demand for private anatomical lecturers, of whom
there were always several holding forth under
the very eaves of the college buildings to Uni-
versity students, at the same moment that Mun-
ro tertius, the appointed professor, was mumbling
his inaudible words to benches made empty by
their desertion.

It was one of the duties of the professors to
ascertain how far the students were regular in
their attendance at the classes by "calling cards,"
as it was termed. This should have been done
twice a week, and on days unexpected by the
student. Munro, on the contrary, conscious that
any enforcement of regularity at his lectures was
impracticable, always took care to " call cards "
on the same day, and at the opening of the lect-

ICO MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ure; so the students came in full force at the
expected time, and after popping into the room
for a moment, and complying with the order to
leave their names or cards, popped immediately
out again, and hurried off to attend to such du-
ties or pleasures as they might have elsewhere.

Munro tertius was an odd-looking man, with
a contracted shrivelled face, small peeping eyes,
short stubby nose, and pursed -up mouth, com-
pressed, as it were, between an impending wrin-
kled forehead above, the height of which seemed
unnaturally great from being lost in the expan-
sive baldness of the head, and a full double chin
below, which overlapped his dirty white cravat.
He was always very carelessly and shabbily
dressed ; for, though rich, he had the reputa-
tion of being very mean and miserly. He had
a large, gross, and flabby person, and moved it
with a shuffling gait and languid carriage.

He did everything with an air of indolent in-
difference, and performed all his duties as a pro-
fessor in the most perfunctory manner. He hard-
ly took the pains to articulate his words, and
drawled out what he had to say in such a muf-
fled tone that it was scarcely audible. He al-
ways carried in his hand a light willow wand,
or stick of some kind, with which he carelessly
pointed out the object of demonstration — a bone,

STRANGE FILIAL AFFECTION. 161

a muscle, or whatever it might be — for he never
deigned to touch them with a finger. He, ordi-
narily, contented himself with the mere announce-
ment of the name of an anatomical part, for he
was either unable or too indolent to describe it,
or its relations to the human body.

Seemingly very proud of the museum collected
by his father, which he had good reason to rev-
erence— for by its gift to the University he was
said to have secured his professorship — he was
very fond of bringing out and displaying its va-
rious objects. The manner in which he did this
was very peculiar and amusing. He would point
with his wand to a crumbling osseous specimen,
and fondly say, " This was my father's collar-
bone ;" or, " This was my father's thigh ;" or,
" This was my father's occiput," or whatever it
might be. If some anatomical part preserved in
spirits, he would take up the glass which con-
tained it, and, stroking it tenderly with his hand,
evoke the attention of the class with the affec-
tionate announcement, "This was my father's
stomach;" or, "This was my father's liver;" or,
" This was my father's gullet," and so forth.

This droll resurrection of paternal remains al-
ways caused, in spite of all due respect for filial
piety, a general titter among the few students
scattered about the benches. On one occasion,
11

162 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

I recollect, there was an irresistible burst of loud
laughter, which, small in number as we were,
shook the benches and filled the almost empty
hall with its sonorous vibrations. The professor
had brought out an enormous circular glass jar,
like the tank of an aquarium, in which was float-
ing, iu a sea of alcohol, a great swollen foetus,
and, with more than usual filial tenderness in his
tone, declared, " This was my father's baby !"

Pastime was the sole object of the student in
attending Munro's class, and if he did not find it
in the eccentricities of the professor, he took care
to provide it for himself. It was common, ac-
cordingly, to take with him some amusing book,
or to seek entertainment by keeping up a lively
conversation with his comrades. Hearing, one
day, behind me a sound of convulsive tittering,
which seemed to indicate a great effort to sup-
press what, at every moment, threatened to burst
out into loud and uncontrollable laughter, I turn-
ed round, and, confronting the merry face of one
of my friends, I asked him the cause of his mer-
riment. He pointed to a green-covered pamphlet
before him, and said it was a number of " Pick-
wick." It was the first time I had ever heard
of it ; but it was not long after that I, too, in com-
mon with all the world, became familiar with
that famous work, which had just begun to be

THE DIGNIFIED DR. HOPE. 163

issued, and could appreciate the difficulty that
my friend must have had in his attempts to keep
his laughter within the limits of public decorum.

Among his many manifestations of eccentric-
ities, Munro tertius, after marrying and having
twelve children, took, on the death of his first
wife, a second ; but of the amount of offspring
by her there is no record.

The most dignified personage of the whole
University was Dr. Hope, the Professor of Chem-
istry. We all looked upon him with awe and
admiration, as, just touching with his gloved hand
the gold-laced cuff of his tall footman, he alight-
ed at the college gates from his handsome equi-
page, and walked, with stately step, across the
quadrangle to the lecture-room.

He was a vigorous old man of seventy years
of age, with an efflorescent face telling of a long
life of good cheer. His portly frame was attired
with scrupulous nicety and elegance. He was al-
ways dressed in black, with a broad-flapped dress-
coat, knee breeches, silk stockings, and low shoes
with wide silver buckles. He had nothing of
the look of a manipulator of retorts and cruci-
bles, but altogether the air of a church dignitary,
replete with rich benefices.

In his early days he had been regarded as a
brilliant lecturer, and attracted daily a large class

164 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

to witness his experimental displays. He never
made, so far as I know, any substantial contribu-
tion to the progress of the science he professed
to teach, and at my time he had already been
left far in the rear by his rapidly advancing
contemporaries, seeming hardly conscious of the
fruitful labors of Berzelius, Dumas, and Faraday.
He continued faithfully in the track of the old
chemists of half a century before, and startled us
tyros with the same resplendent demonstrations
of the effects of chemical combination, and the
evolution of heat and cold, as those with which
he had astonished our predecessors for the pre-
vious fifty years.

He took great pleasure in making experimen-
tal exhibitions on a large scale, and of a showy,
obvious kind, being more anxious, apparently, to
surprise the senses than to awaken the intelli-
gence of his youthful and inexperienced audi-
ence. The well-known rapidity of the combina-
tion of iron and sulphur, with the brilliant effect
which ensues, he would illustrate with an enor-
mous mass of red-hot iron as big as a crow-bar,
and a roll of sulphur as large and thick as his
arm. When he brought the two together in
contact, and the heated particles from the quick-
dissolving metal flew off in a shower of splendid
scintillations, and the whole room was in a glow,

AN. ACTIVE ASSISTANT. 1G5

illuminating each face, there was none which
glistened with more brightness, and exhibited
more delight, than that of the old professor. He
would cause mercury to be frozen by the hun-
dred pounds at a time, and exhibit, with an air
of great self-satisfaction, large vases, forms, and
figures of the congealed metal.

Hope was very fortunate in the possession of
a very clever and active assistant, without whose
aid the old man, already very shaky, would have
been unable to indulge in his favorite exhibition
of fireworks, and other entertaining illustrations
of chemical action.

Kemp, Dr. Hope's assistant, was of very hum-
ble birth, and his tone, speech, manner, and ap-
pearance all indicated his low origin ; but he was
a man of unquestionable genius. He was the
first to prove by experiment the compressibility
of many of the gases. He had a whole arsenal
of bent glass tubes, containing these in their
liquid form, which he used to handle and dis-
play with a fearlessness which he did not impart
to the rest of us when made aware of the force
imprisoned in those brittle vessels. There was
explosive power enough, had it once, by hazard,
gained a vent, to blow up the whole college
structure and every soul in it, and leave its ruins
the scene of a catastrophe more fatal, if less

166 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

memorable, than that which had given the site
of Kirk o' Fields, upon which the University
was built, its tragic historical interest as the
spot where Bothwell and his royal paramour
had murdered Darnley.

Kemp's great feat was the conversion of car-
bonic acid gas into a solid by means of some
enormous and incalculable amount of pressure.
He often repeated the experiment with no un-
usual precaution, as far as I recollect, beyond
carrying his apparatus for the purpose into the
open quadrangle, possibly with the view, in case
of an explosion, that there might be more space
for the scattering of the remains of its unfail-
ing victims. His apparatus consisted of an iron
sphere of enormous thickness, and of the size
and capacity of a keg or small barrel, divided
transversely into t\vo equal parts, in one of which
there was a nozzle with a stop-cock. After the
materials for generating the gas were placed in
one of these hemispheres, the other was set upon
it like a lid, and fastened closely and firmly in po-
sition by several powerful brass nuts and screws.

After it was supposed a sufficient quantity of
the gas had been generated and immensely com-
pressed by its own elastic atmosphere, kept from
expansion by the strong vessel in which it was
confined, the cock was suddenly opened, and the

THE TELEGRAPH ANTICIPATED. IG?

carbonic acid gas burst forth in a shower of
white particles or flakes. This we collected and
rolled together like a snowball, but soon dropped
it from the hand, for it seemed, after holding it
awhile, to bite the flesh like a nip of sharp frost.
This experiment has, no doubt, been frequently
repeated since those days, but in my time it was
so rare that chemists came from various parts
of the world to Kemp's laboratory to witness it.

Kemp had a wire of five miles in length coil-
ed over the ceiling of his lecture-room, through
which he often passed a current of electricity ;
and, bidding us remark the rapidity and sureness
of its passage, would say that here was a means
of transmitting intelligence between points, how-
ever mutually distant, from one end of Europe
to the other, and, in fact, around the whole earth ;
for, as he said, no water — river, lake, or even the
ocean itself — could interrupt the course of the
swift, subtle, penetrating electric fluid. He never
failed to add that some of us would live to sec
it practically applied for this purpose. He thus
anticipated telegraphic communication by means
of electricity, now so familiar to us all, long be-
fore any one had conceived the idea of its possi-
bility.

We students, and every one else, regarded
Kemp at that time as a wild enthusiast, and siis-

1G8 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

pected that his mind was distempered by his
increasing habit of indulgence in strong drink;
which, alas ! daily becoming more evident, final-
ly brought him to ruin and disgrace, and thus
early extinguished a genius which gave great
promise to science.

Kemp delivered a course of what he termed
Practical Chemistry, which we all attended. The
price was much less than that of the lectures of
the dignified Professor Hope, but the value in-
finitely greater. What we learned of chemistry
was not acquired in the great hall above, where
the stately and prescribed University lecturer so
magniloquently pronounced his commonplaces,
but in the dark, diminutive, stone - paved room
below, where the uncouth, half-educated, and oft-
besotted little Scotchman blurted out, in his rude
brogue, the inspirations of genius.

PROFESSOR ALISON. 169

CHAPTER XIY.

Professor Alison.— The Good Physician. — "Our Doctor."
— Robust and Gentle. — Sir Robert Christison. — Hard
Worker. — Powers of Endurance. — Personal Appearance.
— Sir William Hamilton. — Author of "Cyril Thornton."
— Hundreds of Skulls. — A Death-blow to Phrenology. —
Professor Wilson. — His Works. — Personal Appearance.
— As a Lecturer. — The Dogs. — How a Professor was
Appointed. — Pillans.

THE professor of Physiology, whose class I at-
tended, was the brother of Archibald Alison, the
historian, and son of the Rev. Mr. Alison, the
author of the celebrated essay on " Taste." Dr.
William P. Alison, the professor, was a writer of
no little merit himself, and the author of a work
on Physiology, which in those remote days, be-
fore the science had emerged from the misty at-
mosphere of speculative conjecture into the clear
light of experimental research, was regarded as
an ingenious and suggestive help to theoretical
inquiry.

He had a far nobler fame, however, than that
of writer or author, though from its very nature
it was restricted to narrower bounds. He was

170 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

known and beloved by all the poor and wretch-
ed of Edinburgh, by whom he was affectionately
termed " Our Doctor." One of the most emi-
nent physicians of his day, the great and the rich
eagerly sought his advice, and would gladly have
secured it at any cost; but he scorned their hon-
orariums and rewards, and devoted his services
to the humble and the destitute. He was con-
stantly in the grimy " wynds " and filthy " closes "
of the old town, the crowded haunts of disease
and misery, exercising all his skill to heal the
sick, and the full resources of his benevolence
and generosity to encourage and support the
needy and despairing.

Dr. Alison's poor dependents tracked him all
over the city, following him to his home, and to
the college halls. The door of his lecture-room
was daily besieged by a great throng of these
miserable creatures — men, women, and children
— who, as soon as he made his appearance, sur-
rounded and clung to him so closely that it was
impossible for him to move a step. Nor did he
exhibit the least sign of impatience, or show any
desire to avoid their importunities; but, compos-
ing them witli a few gentle words, gave each one
an attentive hearing, and satisfying, apparently,
the behests of all, sent them away happier and
more contented for the interview.

PRACTICAL BENEVOLENCE. 171

The door-steps of his house were perpetually
beset in the same way by a crowd of poor peo-
ple awaiting his going in or coming out. He
always went afoot; for he gave away so much
of his income that he could not afford to keep
a carriage, notwithstanding his large resources
from his professorship and a considerable pri-
vate fortune. He was as great a favorite with
the students as with the poor people, and when-
ever any one of them was taken seriously ill, he
was sure to send for Professor Alison, and he
always came ; for there was no awaiting fee to
exclude him from a claim to the good doctor's
servicc?s.

Dr. Alison was one of the physicians of the
Infirmary, and his presence in the ward which
he daily visited was like a radiance from heav-
en, bringing hope and patience to every sufferer.
His looks corresponded with his deeds, and ev-
ery feature of his face beamed with an expres-
sion of benevolence. He was a large, tall man,
over six feet in height, with broad shoulders and
ruddy cheeks, and every indication, in fact, of a
strong body and good digestion. He had a pe-
culiarly gentle voice ; and to hear, as he bent over
the bed of a patient, upon whose head his broad
hand was softly laid, his habitual words, "My
poor woman," or, " My good man," as it might

172 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

be, was as if a chord of sweet music had been
touched, awakening all the tender emotions of
the heart.

The most earnest, hard- working man in the
University was Dr., now Sir Robert Christison,
the professor of Materia Medica. Besides giving
his regular course of lectures, he was an indefat-
igable experimentalist in the laboratory ; one of
the attendant physicians of the Infirmary ; an ac-
tive member of the Royal Society, where he fre-
quently read papers ; the president of the Phar-
maceutical Society; a public analyst; and an elab-
orate author, of the excellence of whose works
the "Edinburgh Pharmacopeia," and his stand-
ard book on Poisons, are unquestioned proofs.

His personal appearance indicated the ener-
getic spirit and laborious life of the man. His
body was worn bare almost to the skeleton ; his
face was shrivelled, and had a bilious tint and
haggard expression. He had a remarkable sus-
ceptibility of disease. He could not enter the
fever wards of the hospital without catching that
malignant typhus whose victims always abound-
ed there. After having been laid prostrate by
six or more attacks in succession, he was finally
forced by his colleagues, though against his own
strenuous protest, to withdraw forever from all
attendance on patients afflicted with the disease.

WHOLESOME EFFECT OF WORK. 173

He was of the American rather than British
type — eager, nervous, thin, angular, tendinous,
and always on the go. With this filmy struct-
ure and apparently exhausting activity of mind
and body, he combined, as is not seldom found
in our countrymen of the same form and tem-
perament, a power of endurance for which no
trial seemed too great.

Sir Robert Christison was living a few months
ago, a hale old man of ninety years of age — a
striking example of the wholesome effect of
work in promoting health and prolonging hu-
man existence. It is hoped he may be living
still.

Though having all due respect for the men of
eminence in my own profession, I took, I must
confess, more interest in some members of the
faculty of the University of wider celebrity.
There was the professor of Logic, Sir William
Hamilton, who at that time, however, had not
acquired the reputation he has since, of the
greatest metaphysician of our age.

I do not recollect ever having heard him lect-
ure; for there was nothing in his subject, or in
his reputed manner of treating it, greatly to at-
tract me at that early period of my life. At the
time, I think, I was more interested in him from
the fact of his being the brother of Colonel Ham-

174 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

ilton, the author of that interesting novel, " Cy-
ril Thornton," and of a rather saucy book on the
United States, where, in the more sensitive days
of our immaturity, he was classed with the Trol-
lopes, Fiddlers, and others whom we then re-
garded as critics who had reached the height
of impudence, in venturing to say frankly what
they thought of us and our country.

I saw, however, in the class-room of the pro-
fessor of physiology, an interesting reminder of
Sir William Hamilton, who used the same hall
for the delivery of his lectures. Behind the ros-
trum there was a number of shelves fastened to
the wall, upon which were ranged the hundreds
of skulls which gave such weight to the death-
blow that Sir William Hamilton dealt, in his
famous article in the Edinburgh Review, to the
pseudo- science of Gall and Spurzheim. Each
one of the skulls had an artificial opening above
the sockets of the eyes, exhibiting the cavity call-
ed the frontal sinus, and showing that such space
existed between the two plates of bone which
formed the receptacle of the brain, that its con-
volutions could not possibly correspond with any
prominences which might be found on the ex-
terior surface or plate of the skull. The idea,
therefore, that an examination of the head could
indicate any special development of separate

ADMIRATION FOR PROFESSOR WILSON. 175

parts of the brain was thus proved to be mani-
festly absurd.

There was no one I was so eager to see as
John Wilson, professor of Moral Philosophy and
Political Economy in the University — the Chris-
topher North of JBlacJcwood — then in the full
vigor of life and genius, and at the height of re-
nown ; for I had, in common with all my com-
rades who possessed the least literary sympathy,
a strong youthful admiration for the author of
the luxuriant verses of the " Isle of Palms," and
the pathetic stories of the "Lights and Shadows
of Scottish Life;" while I held in reverential awe
the Jupiter Tonans of literature, who wielded
the critical thunder-bolts of " Old Ebony."

I was then too young, perhaps, to fully ap-
preciate the masculine vigor and high-spiced hu-
mor with which life, manners, and literature were
treated in the N~octes Ambrosiance; and as I have
arisen with advanced age to a more capable ap-
preciation of these, my taste, I must confess, has
more and more rebelled against the virulence of
political partisanship, the coarse jocularity, and
the flavor of sensual indulgence which always
accompany and degrade them. While admiring
the sympathetic insight and generous toleration
of Christopher North in many of the later pa-
pers of his editorship, I find them so smothered

176 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

in rhapsody as to be difficult and hardly worth
the effort of resuscitation.

There was no difficulty for any one living in
Edinburgh to see Professor Wilson ; for, if he
was anywhere within the field of vision, the eye
was sure to be attracted and fixed upon him. I
saw him almost every day going to his class
and coming from it. I can well recall his gigan-
tic figure striding along the North and South
bridges at such a pace that his three or four
little short-legged Scotch terriers, which always
followed at his heels, run as fast as they might,
could hardly keep up with him.

Professor Wilson has been often described,
but never so accurately as in this hasty sketch
of him by Dickens: "A tall, burly, handsome
man of eight-and-forty (1841), with a gait like
O'Connell's, the bluest eyes you can imagine, and
long hair — longer than mine" (says Dickens) —
" falling down in a wild way, under the broad
brim of his hat. He had on a surtout coat; a
blue -checked shirt, the collar standing up, and
kept in its place with a wisp of black necker-
chief; no waistcoat; and a large pocket-handker-
chief thrust into his breast, which was all broad
and open. At his heels followed a wiry, sharp-
eyed, shaggy devil of a terrier, dogging his steps
as he went slashing up and down, now with one

PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 177

man beside him, now with another, and now quite
alone, but always at a fast, rolling pace, with his
head in the air, and his eyes as wide open as he
could get them. I guessed it was Wilson, and
it was. A bright, clean-complexioned, mountain-
looking fellow, he looks as though he had just
come down from the Highlands, and had never
in his life taken pen in hand."

There is not the least exaggeration in this de-
scription by Dickens of the carelessness of Wil-
son's dress. He always looked to me as if he
had slept in his clothes, and, having been sud-
denly awakened, had been forced to hurry away,
without having time to put them and his person
in order.

I used occasionally to follow the professor to
his lecture-room, where, as he ascended the ros-
trum, he was greeted by his large class with such
demonstrations of welcome as evinced the hearty
and sincere affection by which he was regarded
by every student. He evidently appreciated this
daily expression of fondness, and always acknowl-
edged it with a kindly smile, and a gentle depre-
catory shake of his long yellow locks.

Silence immediately ensued among the stu-
dents, each one of whom seemed eager to catch
every sound of their favorite professor's voice.
He took out of one of his side-pockets a tumbled
12

178 MY COLLEGE DAYS. ,

conglomeration of manuscripts, with no more reg-
ularity of form and order than so much waste
paper, and, throwing them down scattered before
him, began to hold forth. What he said he evi-
dently did not read from the writing lying about,
for he never looked at, and only touched it to
give it an occasional crumple with his hand, in
the course of the energy of his action. He knew
but little,! fancy, of moral philosophy, and much
less of political economy ; but his lectures, pleas-
antly discursive, were always interesting. His
little terriers, in the mean time, were crouching
under his desk ; and sometimes the professor, in
the stir of his eloquence moving heedlessly about,
would happen to tread upon the leg or tail of
one of the poor little creatures, and a sharp yelp
would be heard, piercing at once some oratori-
cal wind-bag in course of inflation by the lecturer,
and causing a sudden collapse and universal mer-
riment, in which Wilson would join as heartily
as the rest.

Wilson was entirely indebted to political par-
tisanship for his appointment of professor. No
one ever regarded him as a fit successor of Du-
gald Stewart, and a proper teacher of moral phi-
losophy, unless his rabid Toryism and free-and-
easy convivial habits were deemed qualifications.
His intimate associates must have laughed in

PROFESSOR PILLANS. 179

their sleeves at his appointment as a good joke.
Walter Scott, his friend and a brother Tory, when
promising him all his great influence, felt it nec-
essary to exhort him to " eschew sack, and live
cleanly."

Among the professors was Pillans, of the Hu-
manity— the Scotch for Latin class. He was a
painstaking, high- minded teacher, who did not
merit in any way the mud with which Byron,
to gratify a boyish grudge when at Harrow, be-
spattered him in this dirty line of his " English
Bards and Scotch Reviewers,"

"And paltry Pillans traduce liis friend."

180 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XV.

Close of Winter Session. — Vacations. — To Glasgow by
Canal. — A Jolly Archdeacon. — Glenarbuck. — Blantyre
House. — A Noble Fee. — A Tragic End. — A Winter Voy-
age.— Illness at Sea. — A Gentle Seafaring Man. — The
North Atlantic in Winter. — A Victim. — Hoisting Sail. —
Detection. — Arrival in New York. — A Mitigated Wel-
come.

AFTER the close of the winter session of six
months, I had always half of the year to dispose
of. I usually occupied three months of this in
attending the summer session of the University,
and the rest of the time in various holiday ex-
cursions. There were two friends of mine, then
bachelors — one a retired merchant from New
York, and the other his brother, an eminent law-
yer— who always offered and gave me a hearty
welcome. I spent much of my leisui'e time with
them ; now in their luxurious town residence in
Blythswood Square, in Glasgow ; and again at a
picturesque country-place they rented for several
summers.

I used often to go to Glasgow by the canal,
on which there was a passenger boat, which, by

ARCHDEACON WILLIAMS. 181

frequent relays of post-horses and postilions, was
able to compete with the fast mail-coach between
Glasgow and Edinburgh. The railway has, of
course, long since made this an impossible mode
of travel for modern impatience, but in my day
it was a favorite, and really a very agreeable,
mode of journeying. The boats were handsome-
ly fitted up, and the company was always the
best, of which the freedom of communication and
ease of movement permitted a full enjoyment. I
recollect having once, as my fellow -passengers,
Archdeacon Williams and his charming family
of daughters. These bright, black -eyed girls
were in great glee, and amused themselves pluck-
ing wild plants and flowers from the banks of
the canal as we rapidly skimmed them in our
fast-going boat. They were good botanists, and
had the name ready for every insignificant grass
or weed they saw or caught, but it was always
the English one; for their father, they said, for-
bade them using the 'scientific Latin terms as too
pedantic for young ladies. While the daughters
were thus occupied in botanizing, and I in ob-
serving them, there was suddenly a great burst
of laughter from the father, who sat reading in
the bow of the boat. It shook our tremulous
vessel, and fairly rippled the water with its
hearty reverberations. On ascertaining the cause

182 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

of this uproarious merriment, I found that the
archdeacon was reading " Pickwick ;" and, show-
ing me the illustration by Phiz, where old Wel-
ler is pointing significantly with his thumb over
his left shoulder to Samivel's sweetheart, the pret-
ty chamber-maid, Mary, he imitated the gesture,
and burst out again in an uncontrollable fit of
laughter. This was the second time that my at-
tention had been drawn to a book I had not yet
read, by a public manifestation of the immense
delight it gave.

Archdeacon Williams was the author of rather
a dull book — Life of Alexander the Great ; but
Professor Wilson, of Blackwood, always spoke
of him as the most learned and wittiest of arch-
deacons ; he certainly was the jolliest — a stout,
broad -faced, merry parson, whose cheerfulness
not even the cocked hat and sombre suit of
clerical black he wore could repress. He had
been a great friend of Sir Walter Scott, and had
charge of his son Charles when a parish clergy-
man in Wales. When I knew him, he was the
head-master of the Edinburgh Academy, which
the Tories and aristocrats had established as a
rival to the democratic High School.

After spending a few days in Glasgow, I ac-
companied my friends to their country -place.
This was Glenarbuck, situated on the right bank

BLAXTYRE HOUSE. 183

of the Clyde, about ten miles from the city of
Glasgow. The house was a pretty Italian villa,
with a considerable sweep of varied park -like
grounds, the lawns of which spread almost down
to the river, while the rich growth of wood, shad-
ing the sides and the rear of the dwelling, ex-
tended in the distance behind to the hills which
bordered Loch Lomond, and hid it from view.
Within a few steps from the park gate rose the
old Castle of Dumbarton. It and the great rock
upon which it is built almost touched, with their
deep, jagged shades of crag and buttress, the
smooth lawns of Glenarbuck. The place is now
the property of Lord Blantyre, and was, I be-
lieve, a wedding-gift from the Duke of Suther-
land, whose daughter he married. In my day, so
great was the seclusion of the house, that I have
often seen of a morning, from the bow-window
of the breakfast-parlor, wild deer, whose home
was among the hills, bounding across the lawn,
and even at times pausing to nibble the tender
grass.

Directly opposite, on the other side of the
Clyde, was the imposing structure of Blantyre
House, which, with its great park of century-old
trees, and wide pastures covering a long stretch
of the bank of the river, and coming down to its
very brink, presented such an oasis of refreshing

184 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

beauty that it always attracted and fascinated
the eye of the traveller as he passed, wearied
with an almost endless scene of country blasted
and stained with the fire and smoke of human
energy.

From the woods iu the rear of Blantyre House
rose a church spire, and by the side of it the
manse — a more pretentious structure than most
Scotch parsonages. In it lived two of my fel-
low-students. Their father had been a humble
rural practitioner of medicine, but had the good
fortune to be called in an emergency to attend
a daughter of the great house of Blantyre. The
case was pronounced by the most erudite of the
profession to be consumption, and of a desperate
nature ; but the country doctor, who was a man
of plain common -sense, thought otherwise, and
undertook to cure it. He succeeded. His treat-
ment was simple enough — consisting only, it is
said, of beefsteak and porter; but the doctor
was well rewarded, receiving as his fee the hand
and fortune of his noble patient.

His lordship of Blantyre thinking it deroga-
tory to his rank and dignity to have a humble
practitioner of medicine for a brother-in-law, or
the doctor himself concluding that in the en-
joyment of the transcendent fee he had earned
there was nothing beyond to hope for in his pro-

OX THE ATLANTIC. 185

fession, it was resolved that the pestle and mor-
tar should be laid aside, and he take to pound-
ing the pulpit. He, accordingly, became a cler-
gyman of the Established Church of Scotland ;
and receiving from his noble brother-in-law the
gift of the living on the Blantyre estate, and ex-
panding and beautifying the manse by means of
his wife's fortune, was thus possessed of the lit-
tle kirk and comfortable manse, whose spire and
roof were to be seen peeping out of the woods
across the water.

His brother-in-law, Lord Blantyre, met with a
tragic fate. While travelling on the Continent,
he took up his quarters for a short time in a
hotel in Paris, and one day hearing a tumult in
the street, he opened his window, and, looking
out, was shot dead. It was on the first of the
three revolutionary days of July, 1830.

The vacation being over, and the winter ses-
sion of the University beginning, I should, in the
ordinary course, have gone to Edinburgh; but
suffering somewhat from ill-health — the result of
my many irregularities of diet and regimen, and
other sins against nature during the early days
of my collegiate life — and being greatly afflicted
with home-sickness, I had sought and obtained
permission to go to New York.

I sailed from Liverpool, in the packet -ship

186 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Europe, Captain Edward Marshall, early in No-
vember. I began the voyage in great glee, for
I was a good sailor, and did not dread the North
Atlantic Ocean, even in its tumultuous winter
humors ; and was, moreover, cheered by the near-
ing though distant prospect of my home. For
the first ten days everything seemed pleasant
enough, notwithstanding the constant succession
of gales and storms, which, blowing in our teeth,
made the expectation of eating my plum -pud-
ding in New York almost hopeless.

On the eleventh day of the voyage I was suf-
fering from a raging fever, and in a week after
it was manifest that I had an attack of small-
pox. Fortunately, there were but few cabin-
passengers on board, although the steerage was
crowded. Great alarm, however, prevailed, and
it became a matter of serious deliberation how
to dispose of me; for the contagious disease I
had might spread, and, becoming general, affect
not only the passengers but the crew, and dis-
able them from working the ship. They dis-
cussed whether it would be better to deposit me
where I should be a fellow-lodger with the cow,
in a compartment of the long-boat, amidships,
made vacant by the daily slaughter of sheep and
swine, rapidly disappearing in saddles of mutton
and legs of pork at the cabin table; or in the

TERRIBLE SUFFERING. 187

captain's gig, hanging at the poop, where, as I
tossed, suspended in the air, I might be venti-
lated by every breeze and gale, and washed and
purified by perpetual showers of spray and fre-
quent dashes of the stormy stern-chasers.

As I grew sicker and sicker, I felt more and
more indifferent as to the result of their delib-
erations ; and the only request I made, though
none more unlikely to be granted whatever their
promises, was that, in case of my death, my body
should not be thrust into a potato-sack, weighted
with coal, and hurled into the sea. It is curious
that, during the worst paroxysms of my disease,
I was less anxious about the cure of my sick
body than of the disposition of my dead carcass.
Perhaps it was that I despaired of the one, while
I fondly hoped that there was some chance that
my wishes might control the other.

It was humanely resolved at last that, as there
were no female passengers, the lady's cabin should
be cleared of the freight and stores with which
it had been crammed, and prepared for my re-
ception. Here, accordingly, I was deposited, and
lay prostrate for many a day, with a disease
which made me not only loathsome to others
but to myself. My pains and soreness of body
were greatly increased by the motion of the ves-
sel, every pitch, roll, and lurch of which seemed

188 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

to rend apart my flesh, and tear it out by piece-
meal.

There was no surgeon or physician on board,
and I, a student of but a year, only knew enough
of the science of medicine to be frightened at
my condition. There was, however, an old gen-
tleman among the cabin passengers who, having
had the small-pox, felt no fear ; and being a deal-
er in drugs and paints, or something of the kind,
thought himself, as the nearest approximation to
a doctor, entitled to treat me. He had, unfortu-
nately, he said, but I think fortunately, brought
with him no assortment of the articles he dealt
in ; but fastening on the jalap and laudanum bot-
tles among the ship's medicines, he dosed me
alternately with the one and the other. It was
hazardous treatment; but as his opiates were
strong and frequent, my sensibility to the pains
of the drug with which he was drenching me,
and of the disease, was much dulled, and, in spite
of all, I got well.

The captain, a rough man to look at, with his
face deeply seamed and quilted with the scars of
the small-pox, and regarded by his officers and
sailors as a severe task-master, whose rude voice
of command and angry utterances of censure I
could hear even where I lay, rising above the
noise of the boisterous wind and the rattle of

A GENTLE SKIPPER. 189

the shrouds, was as kind and gentle to me as a
woman during my whole illness. He not only
came to see me almost hourly each day, but re-
mained frequently a long time by the side of my
bunk, giving me an account of the progress of
the vessel, and the occurrences on board. On
Sunday he never failed to bring with him his
Bible and read to me a chapter, although no one
in the ship ever suspected that he had the least
inclination to pious sentiments; but I am per-
suaded that he was a sincere Christian in faith,
as he proved himself to be in works — in his con-
duct toward me.

As I lay in my bunk tossing and suffering, the
ship, at the mercy of the constant winter storms,
kept beating about the ocean, and, with perpet-
ual head winds, sailing in every direction but on
the right course. The sailors had a hard time
of it; and after they had been for eight hours
or more at a stretch on the yard-arm reefing a
sail, during a dreadfully cold and stormy day of
December, one poor fellow, exhausted with fa-
tigue and benumbed by frost, let go his hold
and dropped into the sea. He was a Maltese,
and, fresh from the calm and milder regions of
the Mediterranean, was unable to endure the
boisterous winds and severe cold of the North-
ern Atlantic in the winter-time.

190 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Thus we were driven about with hardly a sin-
gle hour's fair breeze, day after day, week after
week, and even month after month ; for, although
we left Liverpool early in November, we did not
arrive in New York until late in December. We
took fifty-five days to cross the Atlantic — a pas-
sage that is now not unfrequently made in eight.

I felt perfectly well on my arrival, but the dis-
ease still showed its full ugly efflorescence on my
face, made still more visible by the frosty winter
air. In spite of the great studding-sails I had
hoisted by the advice of the captain, in the shape
of a very high and broad standing collar, then the
fashion, raised to my ears and extended beyond
both of my cheeks, I found that I had not suc-
ceeded in concealing my identity; for as soon
as I made my appearance on deck, the first time
since my illness, just as we were about to land,
the throng of steerage passengers, who had not
seen me before, stared with amazement ; and I
overheard them remarking to each other, "There's
the gintelman, shure, who had the pock."

My satisfaction at arriving was much dimin-
ished by the surprise with which each old friend
looked me in the face ; and while it was natural
enough that none was over-eager to take me by
the hand, I felt sad, for I seemed to be thus de-
prived of my due share of welcome. In a few

MYSELF AGAIN. 191

months, however, I was myself again, with hard-
ly any indication left of the ugly disease, and
what there was, my friends politely assured me,
only improved my former appearance, thus sug-
gesting an inference certainly not very flattering
to my previous looks.

192 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XVI.

My First Visit to Washington. — Appearance of the Capital.
— The Old Gadsby's. — A Visit from Ogden Hoffman. — A
Sight of Daniel Webster. — The Hon. Edward Stanley. —
A Call upon Van Buren. — The Joke of the Treasury. —
Jesuits' College. — Wine for Boys. — Alexandria. — Horse-
back Ride to Mount Vernon. — A Deserted Home. — Re-
turn to Edinburgh. — An Unfortunate Petition. — First
Medical Examination.

THE most memorable incident of my visit to
the United States was a trip to Washington —
the first time in my life that I had been there.
Evert A. Duyckinck, my dearest friend, from
his early youth to the last day of his life, then
a young man of twenty years of age, like myself,
was my companion. It was at his suggestion,
in fact, that I made the journey.

It was in the spring of 1838 that we set out;
and in those days, with no railways to speed the
passenger on, and no Pullman car to rock him to
sleep and forgetfulness of time and worry, the
tedious travelling by stage-couch and steamboat
made a trip of several hundred miles an enter-

LIFE IN WASHINGTON. 193

pi'ise of some moment. With our youthful spir-
its and sense of freedom, however, there was no
weariness too heavy for our endurance, and not
an hour passed during our whole journey that
did not bring with it an addition to our over-
flowing glee and happiness.

Washington appeared to rne to have much
more of the look of a provincial town then ; al-
though even now it has by no means a very
striking metropolitan aspect. Gadsby's Hotel,
where we put up, of course, as every one else did
— for it was the only inn in the city, I believe —
was a great hostelry of the Southern sort, such
as used to be found in Richmond, and other large
cities of the slave States. It was built on the
four sides of a large square, upon which opened
a range of interior galleries, three or four stories
high. A railing guarded these from the open
court-yard on the one side ; and on the other were
the entrances to all the apartments or bedrooms.

These galleries were the favorite resorts of the
members of Congress, and other habitues of the
hotel ; and in their frequent moments of leisure
they were generally to be seen, if not in the bar-
rooms, here poised upon their chairs with their
heels upon the railing, puffing cigars or chewing
their quids, and alternately sipping mint-juleps
and squirting tobacco-juice over the toes of their
13

194 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

boots down into the court-yard, apparently care-
less on what sooty head of the despised race (the
negro slaves who were always thronging in and
out below) it might fall.

It was in one of these galleries, I recollect, that
Ogden Hoffman, then member of Congress from
New York, to whom we had brought a letter of
introduction, returned our visit. He was a jo-
vial, hearty man, and, young as we were, made
" hail fellow, well met " with us at once, and soon
had his feet upon the rail too, his cigar in his
mouth, and his mint-julep at his side. He was
very chatty about Congressional men and affairs ;
but the only thing I can recollect was, to use his
own words, " Daniel Webster is facile princeps."

We saw this great man, but did not have an
opportunity of hearing him speak in the Senate,
of which he was a member. He appeared to me
then, as he always did whenever I saw him, as
an apparition rather than a reality. There was
certainly nothing ethereal about him. He was
substantial enough, with his massiveness of struct-
ure; his great height, his Atlantean shoulders, his
ponderous head, with its lofty forehead overhang-
ing those wonderful cavernous eyes of his ! but
withal he had a spectral look. He shed around
such an air of impressiveness — of awe, I may say
— as he stood grand in the solitary distinction of

EDWARD STANLEY. 195

his gigantic form, or stalked with majestic step
among the ordinary men and women who flut-
tered about, that it was difficult to regard him
as other people who dwindled in his presence,
while he in comparison seemed to rise to a su-
perhuman height.

We had also a letter of introduction to Ed-
ward Stanley, a bright young member of Con-
gress from North Carolina. He was then rejoic-
ing in his triumph over Wise of Virginia in a
conflict of personal invective, which in those days
was regarded as creditable to the spirit of hon-
orable gentlemen and applauded, but which, it is
hoped, the better taste of the present times con-
demns, and will not tolerate. A duel was thought
probable, but by the intervention of friends a
hostile meeting was averted. Stanley, however,
was regarded as a young hero, who dared to pre-
sent a bold front to his formidable antagonist,
and for having, though it was his first appear-
ance in the Congressional arena, showed a won-
derful readiness in fight, striking blow for blow,
and giving, at least, as much as he received.

Stanley was a pleasant companion, and very
kind and attentive to us. He took us to the
White House, and introduced us to Martin Van
Buren, then President of the United States, who,
in his usual bland manner, upon my being pre-

196 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

sented to him, said, " Pray, Mr. Jones, to what
family of the Joneses in New York do you be-
long?" He might as well, I thought, have asked
me to what branch of the human race I apper-
tained. He had made a mistake in my name,
and I merely answered by correcting it. This
is the only circumstance I can recall of an inter-
view which was, of course, brief and formal.

Mr. Stanley's wife and a niece of his — a Miss
Armistead, the daughter of General Armistead —
were with him in Washington, and we all paid a
visit together to the Treasury, to behold its won-
ders. We were shown a diamond-mounted gold
snuffbox, among other handsome and valuable
gifts which had been presented by foreign po-
tentates to American officials, who are allowed
to take but not to keep presents. They, accord-
ingly, deliver them up to the Secretary of the
Treasury, who stores them away in his depart-
ment. When it came to Miss Armistead's turn
to inspect the box, the official in charge, a gallant
old gray-haired gentleman, after showing the dia-
monds on the outside, opened and displayed the
glistening interior of gold, saying to her, " You
will see there the two most magnificent brilliants,
look !" Miss Armistead was a very handsome
dark brunette, and her pair of beautiful, spark-
ling black eyes deserved the compliment ; and I

THE JESUITS' COLLEGE. 197

must say that I felt my gallantry wounded when
her uncle, Mr. Stanley, blurted out to us as we
left, "That old fool always says the same thing
whenever he shows that box to a lady, be she
young or old, ugly or handsome !" I wonder if
it is still the standing joke of the Treasury, as
it was half a century ago !

We made a visit to the Jesuits' College at
Georgetown. It was during the vacation, and
we found no one but a jolly priest in charge,
who took us all about, showing us the refectory,
the kitchen, the dormitories, the library, with its
illuminated missals and foreign -looking books
bound in vellum, and the grounds. After in-
specting the terraces, the conservatories, and flow-
er-beds, we came to a large trellis covered with
vines, then bursting all over into buds, and giving
promise of a plentiful harvest of fruit. " What
do you do with the grapes?" one of us asked.
" Why, we make wine of them," he said ; " but"
— and after a pause, and a very significant twinge
of the mouth, added, " we give it to the boys !"
It was evident that his own rubicund visage and
jolly rotundity of person had ripened under a
different vintage.

We sailed down the Potomac to Alexandria,
and, mounting a pair of nags from the first liv-
ery-stable, scampered off with loose rein to Mount

198 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

Vernon. It was an early spring day, with a clear,
exhilarating atmosphere, neither too warm nor
cold; and our horses, as well as our ourselves,
stirred to briskness and animation by the cheer-
ing influences of the season, we moved rapidly
and joyously on. The dogwood was everywhere
in full bloom and odor, the fresh tobacco-plants
were sprouting, and the grass of the rolling hills
and broken banks of the river refreshed the eye
with its tender green.

We were soon at Mount Vernon, wandering
about its deserted grounds, and inspecting with
curious but not irreverent eyes the decaying old
house and the neglected burial-place of Wash-
ington. At that time the whole plantation seem-
ed abandoned — the buildings a ruin, and the fields
a waste. We could see no human being but one
decrepit old negro, who started suddenly out
from his lair at the mouth of the tomb, where
he had been lying in wait to pounce upon some
chance travellers like ourselves, for whose shil-
lings he had a lively scent.

Soon after this visit to Washington, on my re-
turn to New York I sailed for Europe, and on
reaching Edinburgh resumed my studies at the
University. I had lost a year, and I was induced
to make it up in a way that I afterward greatly
regretted. I petitioned the Senatus Academicus,

CONDENSED STUDY. 199

as the corporate body of professors was called,
to concede to me one out of the four years of
study required for a degree, on the ground of
an attendance on a previous course of lectures
at the University of Pennsylvania.

My petition was granted, unfortunately for
me, I think, for I was thus obliged to crowd into
three years all the courses of lectures, for which
four, the required number, are hardly adequate.
I, therefore, was occupied almost every hour of
the day in attending lectures, and at the same
time had to prepare for the first medical exami-
nation, to take place at the end of the session. I
naturally devoted myself almost exclusively to
those subjects upon which I was to be exam-
ined, and gave but little heed to the others, be-
yond such attendance at the lectures on them as
was necessary to comply with the regulations of
the University. I passed the examination, and
very creditably, I believe, at the end of the win-
ter session, on the following subjects : Anatomy,
Physiology, Chemistry, Materia Medica, Botany,
and Natural History.

200 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

CHAPTER XVII.

The Last Academic Year. — Disability of Professors. — Sir
Charles Bell. — Supplementary Teachers. — Disgraceful In-
efficiency.— Infirmary. — Heroic Practice. — High-pressure.
— Breaking Down. — The Last Examination. — Dr. (Sir
James Y.) Simpson. — Dr. Sawneyson's Testimonials. — A
Severe Calling to Account. — Defence of Thesis. — Capping.
—Exit.

AFTER the usual three months of holiday, I
was reduced to my last academic year (1839-'40)
at the University, to consist of two sessions, the
summer and winter. In nine months, which was
all the time left to me, I undertook to do won-
ders— not only to attend six courses of lectures
— Practice of Medicine, Pathology, Midwifery,
Surgery, Clinical Surgery, and Medical Jurispru-
dence— but the in-door practice of the hospital,
and out-door practice of the dispensary as well.

I might have dispensed, as far as any good
they did me, with most of the lectures ; for, ex-
cepting the excellent course of Clinical Surgery
by the great surgeon, Syme, there was not a sin-
gle one that was efficiently given. Home, the

INEFFICIENT PKOFESSOES. 201

p.rofessor of the Practice of Medicine, was so en-
feebled by age and infirmity that, although he
continued daily to mumble something from a
manuscript before him, it was so inarticulate and
inaudible that no one could discover what it was.

Thompson, the professor of Pathology, the au-
thor of the standard work on Inflammation, and
one of the original founders, with Sydney Smith,
Jeffrey, and Brougham, of the Edinburgh He-
view, and among its earliest and ablest contribu-
tors, had been long prostrate on his bed with
paralysis. His son — not Allen Thompson, now
the Glasgow professor, who might have well rep-
resented his father, but the eldest, a very differ-
ent man — was acting as his substitute, and had
no qualifications whatsoever for the position.

Hamilton, the professor of Midwifery, was also
a hopeless invalid ; and an old pupil of his was
appointed to read his manuscript lectures, which
he did in a perfunctory way, as if he regarded
it a bore to himself, as certainly it was to those
who were forced to listen to him.

Sir Charles Bell, who had been lately appoint-
ed the successor of Liston, who had gone to
London, where he became the greatest surgeon
of the metropolis, was, indeed, a very eminent
man, but an exceedingly inefficient lecturer. He
had reached that age when, without energy to

202 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

struggle and compete with the present, we con-
sole ourselves with the triumphs of the past. It
was interesting to listen to him as he dilated
upon his great discovery of the functions of the
spinal cord and nerves, but he became occasion-
ally very tedious as he repeated over and over
again the details of his ingenious experiments, and
the steps of his convincing deductions ; besides,
it was not surgery. He, moreover, was quite in-
firm, and lectured in a languid manner approach-
ing to indifference, seeming as glad as we were
when the hour of the lesson was over.

The professor of Medical Jurisprudence had
put what he knew of his subject in a little book,
which was in the hands of us all ; and as he was
a dull fellow, no one cared or needed to listen to
his tedious repetitions of himself.

It was disgraceful to the University that its
teaching should have been allowed to remain in
such an inefficient state. There were twelve med-
ical professors in all, receiving large incomes from
their classes, while only two or three out of the
whole number could be justly said to lecture in
a superior and thoroughly effective manner. All
the rest were greatly surpassed by the private
teachers, whose services, in fact, it was neces-
sary to call into requisition to supplement the
University courses and supply their defects, in

ATTENDANCE IN THE SURGICAL WARDS. 203

consequence of the superannuation," sickness, and
other causes of the disability of the regular pro-
fessors. The students were thus forced to pay
double, while they received but a single benefit,
and more for what they did not get than for
what they did. The teachers outside always
charged a great deal less for their good lectures
than we were obliged to give the professors in-
side of the University for their bad ones. The
proper remedy for such a condition of things is
to place all teachers properly licensed, whether
collegiate or not, on the same footing ; and as
each would thus depend on his merits for com-
pensation, only the capable and efficient would
be found in the chair of professor or lecturer;
for none is likely to be fool enough gratuitously
to hold forth, day after day and year after year,
to empty benches, as a University dullard does,
and is so well paid for doing.

I was a daily attendant at the Infirmary, wit-
nessing the operations performed by the skil-
ful hands of Syme and Ferguson, afterward Sir
James Ferguson, the famous surgeon of London.
I followed them also in their rounds in the surgi-
cal wards, as I also did the various physicians in
succession — Drs. Alison, Christison, and Craigie
— in the medical services.

Those were the heroic days of the practice

204 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

of medicine— the days of puking, drenching, and
bleeding. In every case of fever, whatever might
be its nature, the preliminary measure was a
vomit of a kind and of a strength that was al-
most capable of making, contrary to nature, a
horse sick. Two grains of tartar-emetic and a
drachm of ipecacuanha were always given to
each poor patient as soon as seen, whose flushed
face, heated surface of body, and quickened pulse
indicated the possibility of any disease whatever
which could come within that comprehensive
term, fever. It might turn out to be merely a
disordered stomach, which a day of abstinence
and repose might restore to its healthy condition ;
or it might be an eruptive affection, a case of
measles or small-pox, which would follow a course
as regular and certain as the days of the week;
or it might be the malignant typhus, where the
virulent poison, corrupting the blood and pros-
trating the strength, could only be eliminated
by time and the power of endurance. It matter-
ed not what disease was vaguely foreboded, the
close was certain ; the tartar-emetic and ipecacu-
anha were always given. " The fever," that nev-
er was or could be arrested in its natural prog-
ress, " must be broken," exclaimed all the doc-
tors, as they poured down their nauseous mixt-
ures into the unwilling stomachs of their vie-

HEROIC MEDICINE. 205

tims, always sickening them, and reducing a
strength already prostrated by the disease, and
thus lessening the chances of a recovery wholly
dependent upon the power of the organization
to endure the poison, and finally, by outlasting
the malignant effects, to recover its original con-
dition of health.

With the same boasted heroism of treatment,
as it was then termed — audacious defiance of nat-
ure we should now call it — the doctors treated
every supposed case of inflammation. Venesec-
tio ad deliquium — all the orders in the Infirma-
ry were given in Latin — " bleeding to fainting,"
was heard at every bedside. This was followed
by a prescription of tartar-emetic, to be taken
every hour or so, and continued until the patient
became well, as he may have done sometimes, for
the resistance of nature is marvellously great, or
until — but ars longa,vita brevis. There was al-
ways, supplementary to this medical heroism of
bleeding to fainting and sickening to exhaustion,
a frequent purging with large doses of calomel
and jalap, to complete the test of human endur-
ance. The stimulating treatment in typhus was
carried out to an extent that Avould seem incred-
ible to the practitioner of the present day. An
old disciple of the Brownonian School, one of the
most famous doctors of his time in Edinburgh,

206 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

was known to give a one quart bottle of brandy
and two quart bottles of full-bodied claret to a
single patient in the course of four-and-twenty
hours !

I learned to flesh, I am sorry to say, my lancet
in those heroic days, and to wage war against
nature with it, and all the other deadly weapons
of ancient art; but I rejoice to know that I
have survived to see these unheroic times, which,
though too commonplace in many respects as
they may be, have certainly the advantage of
being more sensible and less dangerous.

With all the many lectures, and the attend-
ance upon the hospitals, and out-door and in-door
practice of the dispensaries crowded into one
short academic year, to which was added the
special preparation requiring a great deal of
study of numerous text-books for the prospec-
tive examination for my degree, which naturally
tormented me with anxieties and dismal forebod-
ings of possible failure, I became so oppressed
with work and worried with care that my health
broke down under the pressure. I now felt to
the full the imprudence of my proceeding in hav-
ing shortened the regular course of study, and,
instead of the one year less, which had been con-
ceded in accordance with my injudicious peti-
tion, I would have been glad to have many years

CHAMBER OF HORKOKS. 207

more, so overwhelming seemed the burden I had
to bear. I thought, at times, of giving up the
whole effort in despair. I became nervous and
hypochondriacal, and suffered a prostration of
mind and body which, at intervals, has continued
to afflict me, more or less, throughout the rest of
my life to this day — a prolonged misery which
I attribute to the absurd attempt at doing in a
few months what could only have been properly
done in as many years.

I, however, persisted, and offered myself for
the examination, but with fear and trembling.
On entering the chamber of horrors — the small
commonplace room, the plain table covered with
green baize holding a business -looking blank-
book, some scattered sheets of white paper, and
pens and ink — the two or three familiar profess-
ors, smiling and chatting at their ease, at one
end, while at the other stood an empty horse-
hair chair, seemed, by their very simplicity and
habitualness, a mockery of my woe, and height-
ened my alarms. I could have better endured
a more ceremonious reception, a statelier apart-
ment, a more solemn conclave. Greater show of
official form and severity would have stiffened
my relaxed nerves to the firmness of resistance,
and compelled self-command. Ceremony, more-
over, would have been a diversion, drawing to

•208 MY COLLEGE DAYS.

itself much that in this cynical simplicity of my
examination was concentrated upon me. Every-
thing indicated business, and nothing but busi-
ness, and a most dreadful business.

The first person I confronted was Dr. Simp-
son, who had just been elected to the Professor-
ship of Midwifery, on the death of Dr. Hamilton.
He arose and met me as I entei'ed the door, and
shook hands in the most friendly way. I thought
it but polite, in return for his civil reception, to
be civil too, so I congratulated him upon his ap-
pointment. "And you, sir," he answered, with a
curl of his lip, (C did everything in your power to
prevent it." I knew at once what he referred to,
and the knowledge was not calculated to revive
my failing courage.

During the very active and excited canvass
for the election of a Professor of Midwifery, Dr.
Simpson had printed a large volume of Testi-
monials, and distributed it everywhere. This
publication was not in the best taste, and, lend-
ing itself obviously to burlesque, I had traves-
tied it under the title of " Dr. Sawneyson's Testi-
monials." The squib was hawked about in front
of the college, read by all the Tory professors,
who smiled approvingly upon the reputed au-
thor, thrown into every reading-room, and sent
to all the newspapers; and a popular medical

SIE JAMES Y. SIMPSON. 209

journal in London reprinted it in full in its col-
umns. It was a great success, owing to the time-
liness of its production, and riot to any merit it
possessed. Dr. Simpson, who was a brother of a
Radical baker of Edinburgh, an influential mem-
ber of the Town Council, was opposed by most
of the professors, who were Tories, and of great
aristocratical pretensions. The students follow-
ing in their wake were antagonistic too, and I
also; though, as a foreigner, I ought to have
expressed no political sympathy, and if I did,
it might have been expected that, being a Re-
publican, I should not be ranged on the Tory
side. Simpson, however, was elected, principal-
ly through the influence of his Radical brother
of the Common Council, with which the choice
rested. He took ample revenge in due course of
time upon all the Tory professors, and his other
virulent antagonists, by becoming one of the
greatest medical teachers in the University, and
most eminent accoucheurs and physicians in the
world.

His speech to me was certainly not very mag-
nanimous, and his conduct subsequently still less
so, if, as I suspected, he made my examination
more severe and difficult than it otherwise would
have been. I may, however, have done him in-
justice by my suspicion. At any rate, he was
14

210 MY COL^PGE DAYS.

entitled to ask me what he pleased, provided it
was pertinent to the subject upon which I was
to pass an examination, and it was ray duty to
answer it. I passed, however, by hook or by
crook, the Midwifery as well as the other exami-
nations.

The next step toward obtaining the degree
was to defend my thesis; an operation which
was soon and easily performed, for it consisted of
little more than a polite interchange of courtesies
between Dr. Alison, my challenger on the occa-
sion, and myself. He shook hands with me, and
expressed the hope that I was well, and I return-
ed the compliment, shaking him by the hand, and
expressing the hope that he was well. He may
have added a word or two in regard to my the-
sis, which treated of a subject he was fond, in his
lectures, of descanting upon — " The Influence of
Mind on Body."

I was now ready for the last scene of all, the
" capping," as it is termed. I, accordingly, on
the day appointed, August 1st, 1840, in order to
undergo the operation, passed in a long line of
my fellow-graduates, one hundred and eleven in
number, in front of the whole body of the Fac-
ulty, seated on a dais or platform, and in face of
a large number of miscellaneous spectators, who
filled the great hall of the University. Each of

GRADUATED. 211

us stopped, first before one of the professors, to
sign the Hippocratic oath, and then before the
JPrimaHvtf or Principal of the University, sit-
ting on a raised seat in the centre, who, lifting
the cap, which was made of pasteboard covered
with black stuff of some kind, and resembled a
gigantic extinguisher in form, put and held it on
the head of each, while he went through a short
Latin formula, pronouncing the candidate a doc-
tor, with all the rights and privileges pertaining
thereto. Having been thus capped, I passed on,
and, receiving my diploma, disappeared from the
stage.

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