boatman. You'd better go back to the farm and chop wood or milk cows,
for a man or boy isn't fit for this business that isn't ready to fight
for his rights."

James did not answer. Probably he saw that it would be of no use. George
Lee was for his own boat, right or wrong; but James had already begun to
reflect upon the immutable principles of right or wrong, and he did not
suffer his reason to be influenced by any considerations touching his
own interests or his own pride.

As to the charge of cowardice it did not trouble him much. On a suitable
occasion later on (we shall tell the story in due season) he showed that
he was willing to contend for his rights, when he was satisfied that the
right was on his side.




CHAPTER VI.

JAMES LEAVES THE CANAL.


James was not long to fill the humble position of driver. Before the
close of the first trip he was promoted to the more responsible office
of bowman. Whether his wages were increased we are not informed.

It may be well in this place to mention that a canal boat required,
besides the captain, two drivers, two steersmen, a bowman, and a cook,
the last perhaps not the least important of the seven. "The bowman's
business was to stop the boat as it entered the lock, by throwing the
bowline that was attached to the bow of the boat around the snubbing
post." It was to this position that James was promoted, though I have
some doubt whether the place of driver, with the opportunities it
afforded of riding on horse or mule-back, did not suit him better.
Still, promotion is always pleasant, and in this case it showed that
the boy had discharged his humbler duties satisfactorily.

I have said that the time came when James showed that he was not a
coward. Edmund Kirke, in his admirable life of Garfield, has condensed
the captain's account of the occurrence, and I quote it here as likely
to prove interesting to my boy readers:

"The _Evening Star_ was at Beaver, and a steamboat was ready to tow her
up to Pittsburg. The boy was standing on deck with the selting-pole
against his shoulders, and some feet away stood Murphy, one of the boat
hands, a big, burly fellow of thirty-five, when the steamboat threw the
line, and, owing to a sudden lurch of the boat, it whirled over the
boy's head, and flew in the direction of the boatman. 'Look out,
Murphy!' cried the boy; but the rope had anticipated him, and knocked
Murphy's hat off into the river. The boy expressed his regret, but it
was of no avail. In a towering rage the man rushed upon him, with his
head down, like a maddened animal; but, stepping nimbly aside, the boy
dealt him a powerful blow behind the ear, and he tumbled to the bottom
of the boat among the copper ore. Before he could rise the boy was upon
him, one hand upon his throat, the other raised for another blow upon
his frontispiece.

"'Pound the cussed fool, Jim!' cried Captain Letcher, who was looking on
appreciatingly. 'If he haint no more sense'n to get mad at accidents,
giv it ter him! Why don't you strike?'

"But the boy did not strike, for the man was down and in his power.
Murphy expressed regret for his rage, and then Garfield gave him his
hand, and they became better friends than ever before. This victory of a
boy of sixteen over a man of thirty-five obliterated the notion of young
Garfield's character for cowardice, and gave him a great reputation
among his associates. The incident is still well remembered among the
boatmen of the Ohio and Pennsylvania Canal."

The boy's speedy reconciliation to the man who had made so unprovoked an
assault upon him was characteristic of his nature. He never could
cherish malice, and it was very hard work for him to remain angry with
any one, however great the provocation.

Both as a boy and as a man he possessed great physical strength, as may
be inferred from an incident told by the Boston _Journal_ of his life
when he was no longer the humble canal-boy, but a brigadier-general in
the army:

"At Pittsburg Landing one night in 1862 there was a rush for rations by
some newly-arrived troops. One strong, fine-looking soldier presented a
requisition for a barrel of flour, _and, shouldering it, walked off with
ease_. When the wagon was loaded, this same man stepped up to Colonel
Morton, commanding the commissary steamers there, and remarked, 'I
suppose you require a receipt for these supplies?' 'Yes,' said the
Colonel, as he handed over the usual blank; 'just take this provision
return, and have it signed by your commanding officer.' 'Can't I sign
it?' was the reply. 'Oh, no,' said the affable Colonel Morton; 'it
requires the signature of a commissioned officer.' Then came the remark,
that still remains fresh in the Colonel's memory: 'I am a commissioned
officer--I'm a brigadier-general, and my name is Garfield, of Ohio.'"

For four months James remained connected with the canal-boat. To show
that traveling by canal is not so free from danger as it is supposed to
be, it may be stated that in this short time he fell into the water
fourteen times. Usually he scrambled out without further harm than a
good wetting. One night, however, he was in serious pain.

It was midnight, and rainy, when he was called up to take his turn at
the bow. The boat was leaving one of those long reaches of slack-water
which abound in the Ohio and Pennsylvania Canal. He tumbled out of bed
in a hurry, but half awake, and, taking his stand on the narrow platform
below the bow-deck, he began uncoiling a rope to steady the boat through
a lock it was approaching. Finally it knotted, and caught in a narrow
cleft on the edge of the deck. He gave it a strong pull, then another,
till it gave way, sending him over the bow into the water. Down he went
in the dark river, and, rising, was bewildered amid the intense
darkness. It seemed as if the boy's brief career was at its close. But
he was saved as by a miracle. Reaching out his hand in the darkness, it
came in contact with the rope. Holding firmly to it as it tightened in
his grasp, he used his strong arms to draw himself up hand over hand.
His deliverance was due to a knot in the rope catching in a crevice,
thus, as it tightened, sustaining him and enabling him to climb on
deck.

It was a narrow escape, and he felt it to be so. He was a thoughtful
boy, and it impressed him. The chances had been strongly against him,
yet he had been saved.

"God did it," thought James reverently, "He has saved my life against
large odds, and He must have saved it for some purpose. He has some work
for me to do."

Few boys at his age would have taken the matter so seriously, yet in the
light of after events shall we not say that James was right, and that
God did have some work for him to perform?

This work, the boy decided, was not likely to be the one he was at
present engaged in. The work of a driver or a bowman on a canal is
doubtless useful in its way, but James doubted whether he would be
providentially set apart for any such business.

It might have been this deliverance that turned his attention to
religious matters. At any rate, hearing that at Bedford there was a
series of protracted meetings conducted by the Disciples, as they were
called, he made a trip there, and became seriously impressed. There,
too, he met a gentleman who was destined to exert an important influence
over his destiny.

This gentleman was Dr. J.P. Robinson, who may be still living. Dr.
Robinson took a great liking to the boy, and sought to be of service to
him. He employed him, though it may have been at a later period, to chop
wood, and take care of his garden, and do chores about the house, and
years afterward, as we shall see, it was he that enabled James to enter
Williams College, and pursue his studies there until he graduated, and
was ready to do the work of an educated man in the world. But we must
not anticipate.

Though James was strong and healthy he was not proof against the disease
that lurked in the low lands bordering on the canal. He was attacked by
fever and ague, and lay for some months sick at home. It was probably
the only long sickness he had till the fatal wound which laid him on his
bed when in the fullness of his fame he had taken his place among kings
and rulers. It is needless to say that he had every attention that a
tender mother could bestow, and in time he was restored to health.

During his sickness he had many talks with his mother upon his future
prospects, and the course of life upon which it was best for him to
enter. He had not yet given up all thoughts of the sea, he had not
forgotten the charms with which a sailor's life is invested in
Marryatt's fascinating novels. His mother listened anxiously to his
dreams of happiness on the sea, and strove to fix his mind upon higher
things--to inspire him with a nobler ambition.

"What would you have me do, mother?" he asked.

"If you go back to the canal, my son, with the seeds of this disease
lurking in your system, I fear you will be taken down again. I have
thought it over. It seems to me you had better go to school this spring,
and then, with a term in the fall, you may be able to teach in the
winter. If you teach winters, and work on the canal or lake summers, you
will have employment the year round."

Nevertheless Mrs. Garfield was probably not in favor of his spending his
summers in the way indicated. She felt, however, that her son, who was a
boy like other boys, must be gradually weaned from the dreams that had
bewitched his fancy.

Then his mother proposed a practical plan.

"You have been obliged to spend all your money," she said, "but your
brother Thomas and I will be able to raise seventeen dollars for you to
start to school on, and when that is gone perhaps you will be able to
get along on your own resources."




CHAPTER VII.

THE CHOICE OF A VOCATION


James Garfield's experience on the canal was over. The position was such
an humble one that it did not seem likely to be of any service in the
larger career which one day was to open before him. But years afterward,
when as a brigadier-general of volunteers he made an expedition into
Eastern Kentucky, he realized advantage from his four months' experience
on the canal. His command had run short of provisions, and a boat had
been sent for supplies, but the river beside which the men were encamped
had risen so high that the boat dared not attempt to go up the river.
Then General Garfield, calling to his aid the skill with which he had
guided the _Evening Star_ at the age of fifteen, took command of the
craft, stood at the wheel forty-four hours out of the forty-eight, and
brought the supplies to his men at a time when they were eating their
last crackers.

"Seek all knowledge, however trifling," says an eminent author, "and
there will come a time when you can make use of it."

James may never have read this remark, but he was continually acting
upon it, and the spare moments which others devoted to recreation he
used in adding to his stock of general knowledge.

The last chapter closes with Mrs. Garfield's advice to James to give up
his plan of going to sea, and to commence and carry forward a course of
education which should qualify him for a college professor, or a
professional career. Her words made some impression upon his mind, but
it is not always easy to displace cherished dreams. While she was
talking, a knock was heard at the door and Mrs. Garfield, leaving her
place at her son's bedside, rose and opened it.

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Bates," she said with a welcoming smile.

Samuel D. Bates was the teacher of the school near by, an earnest young
man, of exemplary habits, who was looking to the ministry as his chosen
vocation.

"And how is James to-day?" asked the teacher, glancing toward the bed.

"So well that he is already beginning to make plans for the future,"
answered his mother.

"What are your plans, James?" asked the young man.

"I should like best to go to sea," said James, "but mother doesn't
approve of it."

"She is wise," said Bates, promptly. "You would find it a great
disappointment."

"But, it must be delightful to skim over the waters, and visit countries
far away," said the boy, his cheeks flushing, and his eyes glowing with
enthusiasm.

"You think so now; but remember, you would be a poor, ignorant sailor,
and would have to stay by the ship instead of exploring the wonderful
cities at which the ship touched. Of course, you would have an
occasional run on shore, but you could not shake off the degrading
associations with which your life on shipboard would surround you."

"Why should a sailor's life be degrading?" asked James.

"It need not be necessarily, but as a matter of fact most sailors have
low aims and are addicted to bad habits. Better wait till you can go to
sea as a passenger, and enjoy to the full the benefits of foreign
travel."

"There is something in that," said James, thoughtfully. "If I could only
be sure of going some day."

"Wouldn't it be pleasant to go as a man of culture, as a college
professor, as a minister, or as a lawyer, able to meet on equal terms
foreign scholars and gentlemen?"

This was a new way of putting it, and produced a favorable impression on
the boy's mind. Still, the boy had doubts, and expressed them freely.

"That sounds well," he said; "but how am I to know that I have brain
enough to make a college professor, or a minister, or a lawyer?"

"I don't think there is much doubt on that point," said Bates, noting
the bright, expressive face, and luminous eyes of the sick boy. "I
should be willing to guarantee your capacity. Don't you think yourself
fit for anything better than a common sailor?"

"Yes," answered James. "I think I could make a good carpenter, for I
know something about that trade already, and I daresay I could make a
good trader if I could find an opening to learn the business; but it
takes a superior man to succeed in the positions you mention."

"There are plenty of men with only average ability who get along very
creditably; but I advise you, if you make up your mind to enter the
lists, to try for a high place."

The boy's eyes sparkled with new ambition. It was a favorite idea with
him afterward, that every man ought to feel an honorable ambition to
succeed as well as possible in his chosen path.

"One thing more," added Bates. "I don't think you have any right to
become a sailor."

"No right? Oh, you mean because mother objects."

"That, certainly, ought to weigh with you as a good son; but I referred
to something else."

"What then?"

"Do you remember the parable of the talents?"

James had been brought up by his mother, who was a devoted religious
woman, to read the Bible, and he answered in the affirmative.

"It seems to me that you are responsible for the talents which God has
bestowed upon you. If you have the ability or the brain, as you call
it, to insure success in a literary career, don't you think you would
throw yourself away if you became a sailor?"

Mrs. Garfield, who had listened with deep interest to the remarks of the
young man, regarded James anxiously, to see what effect these arguments
were having upon him. She did not fear disobedience. She knew that if
she should make it a personal request, James was dutiful enough to
follow her wishes; but she respected the personal independence of her
children, and wanted to convince, rather than to coerce, them.

"If I knew positively that you were right in your estimate of me, Mr.
Bates, I would go in for a course of study."

"Consult some one in whose judgment you have confidence, James," said
the teacher, promptly.

"Can you suggest any one?" asked the boy.

"Yes, Dr. J.P. Robinson, of Bedford, is visiting at the house of
President Hayden, of Hiram College. You have heard of him?"

"Yes."

"He is a man of ripe judgment, and you can rely implicitly on what he
says."

"As soon as I am well enough I will do as you advise," said James.

"Then I am satisfied. I am sure the doctor will confirm my advice."

"Mr. Bates," said Mrs. Garfield, as she followed out the young teacher,
"I am much indebted to you for your advice to James. It is in accordance
with my wishes. If he should decide to obtain an education, where would
you advise him to go?"

"To the seminary where I have obtained all the education I possess,"
answered the young man.

"Where is it?"

"It is called the 'Geauga Seminary,' and is located in Chester, in the
next county. For a time it will be sufficient to meet all James' needs.
When he is further advanced he can go to Hiram College."

"Is it expensive?" asked Mrs. Garfield. "James has no money except the
few dollars his brother and I can spare him."

"He will have plenty of company. Most of the students are poor, but
there are chances of finding work in the neighborhood, and so earning a
little money. James knows something of the carpenter's trade?"

"Yes, he helped build the house we live in, and he has been employed on
several barns."

My readers will remember that the Garfields no longer lived in the
humble log-cabin in which we first found them. The money Thomas brought
home from Michigan, supplemented by the labor of James and himself, had
replaced it by a neat frame house, which was much more comfortable and
sightly.

"That will do. I think I know a man who will give him employment."

"He is a boy of energy. If he gets fairly started at school, I think he
will maintain himself there," said Mrs. Garfield.

The teacher took his leave.

When Mrs. Garfield re-entered the room she found James looking very
thoughtful.

"Mother," he said, abruptly, "I want to get well as quick as I can. I am
sixteen years old, and it is time I decided what to do with myself."

"You will think of what Mr. Bates has said, will you not?"

"Yes, mother; as soon as I am well enough I will call on Dr. Robinson
and ask his candid opinion. I will be guided by what he says."




CHAPTER VIII.

GEAUGA SEMINARY.


I have stated in a previous chapter that James became acquainted with
Dr. Robinson while still employed on the canal. This statement was made
on the authority of Mr. Philo Chamberlain, of Cleveland, who was part
proprietor of the line of canal-boats on which the boy was employed.
Edmund Kirke, however, conveys the impression that James was a stranger
to the doctor at the time he called upon him after his sickness. Mr.
Kirke's information having been derived chiefly from General Garfield
himself, I shall adopt his version, as confirmed by Dr. Robinson.

When James walked up to the residence of President Hayden, and inquired
for Dr. Robinson, he was decidedly homespun in appearance. He probably
was dressed in his best, but his best was shabby enough. His trousers
were of coarse satinet, and might have fitted him a season or two
before, but now were far outgrown, reaching only half-way down from the
tops of his cowhide boots. His waistcoat also was much too short, and
his coat was threadbare, the sleeves being so short as to display a
considerable portion of his arms. Add to these a coarse slouched hat,
much the worse for wear, and a heavy mass of yellow hair much too long,
and we can easily understand what the good doctor said of him: "He was
wonderfully awkward, but had a sort of independent, go-as-you-please
manner that impressed me favorably."

"Who are you?" asked the doctor.

"My name is James Garfield, from Solon."

"Oh, I know your mother, and knew you when you were a babe, but you have
outgrown my knowledge. I am glad to see you."

"I should like to see you alone," said James.

The doctor led the way to a secluded spot in the neighborhood of the
house, and then, sitting down on a log, the youth, after a little
hesitation, opened his business.

"You are a physician," he said, "and know the fiber that is in men.
Examine me and tell me with the utmost frankness whether I had better
take a course of liberal study. I am contemplating doing so, as my
desire is in that direction. But if I am to make a failure of it, or
practically so, I do not desire to begin. If you advise me not to do so
I shall be content."

In speaking of this incident the doctor has remarked recently: "I felt
that I was on my sacred honor, and the young man looked as though he
felt himself on trial. I had had considerable experience as a physician,
but here was a case much different from any I had ever had. I felt that
it must be handled with great care. I examined his head and saw that
there was a magnificent brain there. I sounded his lungs, and found that
they were strong, and capable of making good blood. I felt his pulse,
and felt that there was an engine capable of sending the blood up to the
head to feed the brain. I had seen many strong physical systems with
warm feet and cold, sluggish brain; and those who possessed such systems
would simply sit round and doze. Therefore I was anxious to know about
the kind of an engine to run that delicate machine, the brain. At the
end of a fifteen minutes' careful examination of this kind, we rose, and
I said:

"Go on, follow the leadings of your ambition, and ever after I am your
friend. You have the brain of a Webster, and you have the physical
proportions that will back you in the most herculean efforts. All you
need to do is to work; work hard, do not be afraid of over-working and
you will make your mark."

It will be easily understood that these words from a man whom he held in
high respect were enough to fix the resolution of James. If he were
really so well fitted for the work and the career which his mother
desired him to follow, it was surely his duty to make use of the talents
which he had just discovered were his.

After that there was no more question about going to sea. He
deliberately decided to become a scholar, and then follow where
Providence led the way.

He would have liked a new suit of clothes, but this was out of the
question. All the money he had at command was the seventeen dollars
which his mother had offered him. He must get along with this sum, and
so with hopeful heart he set out for Geauga Seminary.

He did not go alone. On hearing of his determination, two boys, one a
cousin, made up their minds to accompany him.

Possibly my young readers may imagine the scene of leave-taking, as the
stage drove up to the door, and the boys with their trunks or valises
were taken on board, but if so, imagination would picture a scene far
different from the reality. Their outfit was of quite a different kind.

For the sake of economy the boys were to board themselves, and Mrs.
Garfield with provident heart supplied James with a frying-pan, and a
few necessary dishes, so that his body might not suffer while his mind
was being fed. Such was the luxury that awaited James in his new home. I
am afraid that the hearts of many of my young readers would sink within
them if they thought that they must buy an education at such a cost as
that. But let them not forget that this homespun boy, with his poor
array of frying-pan and dishes, was years after to strive in legislative
halls, and win the highest post in the gift of his fellow-citizens. And
none of these things would have been his, in all likelihood, but for his
early struggle with poverty.

So far as I know, neither of his companions was any better off than
James. All three were young adventurers traveling into the domains of
science with hopeful hearts and fresh courage, not altogether ignorant
of the hardships that awaited them, but prepared to work hard for the
prizes of knowledge.

Arrived at Geauga Seminary, they called upon the principal and announced
for what purpose they had come.

"Well, young men, I hope you mean to work?" he said.

"Yes, sir," answered James promptly. "I am poor, and I want to get an
education as quick as I can."

"I like your sentiments, and I will help you as far as I can."

The boys succeeded in hiring a room in an old unpainted building near
the academy for a small weekly sum. It was unfurnished, but they
succeeded in borrowing a few dilapidated chairs from a neighbor who did
not require them, and some straw ticks, which they spread upon the floor
for sleeping purposes. In one corner they stowe their frying-pans,
kettles, and dishes, and then they set up housekeeping in humble style.

The Geauga Seminary was a Freewill Baptist institution, and was attended
by a considerable number of students, to whom it did not, indeed,
furnish what is called "the higher education," but it was a considerable
advance upon any school that James had hitherto attended. English
grammar, natural philosophy, arithmetic, and algebra--these were the
principal studies to which James devoted himself, and they opened to him
new fields of thought. Probably it was at this humble seminary that he
first acquired the thirst for learning that ever afterward characterized
him.

Let us look in upon the three boys a night or two after they have
commenced housekeeping.

They take turns in cooking, and this time it is the turn of the one in
whom we feel the strongest interest.

"What have we got for supper, boys?" he asks, for the procuring of
supplies has fallen to them.

"Here are a dozen eggs," said Henry Bounton, his cousin.

"And here is a loaf of bread, which I got at the baker's," said his
friend.

"That's good! We'll have bread and fried eggs. There is nothing better
than that."

"Eggs have gone up a cent a dozen," remarks Henry, gravely.

This news is received seriously, for a cent means something to them.
Probably even then the price was not greater than six to eight cents a
dozen, for prices were low in the West at that time.

"Then we can't have them so often," said James, philosophically, "unless
we get something to do."

"There's a carpenter's-shop a little way down the street," said Henry.
"I guess you can find employment there."

"I'll go round there after supper."

Meanwhile he attended to his duty as cook, and in due time each of the
boys was supplied with four fried eggs and as much bread as he cared
for. Probably butter was dispensed with, as too costly a luxury, until
more prosperous times.

When supper was over the boys took a walk, and then, returning to their
humble room, spent the evening in preparing their next morning's
lessons.

In them James soon took leading rank, for his brain was larger, and his
powers of application and intuition great, as Dr. Robinson had implied.
From the time he entered Geauga Seminary probably he never seriously
doubted that he had entered upon the right path.




CHAPTER IX.

WAYS AND MEANS.


James called on the carpenter after supper and inquired if he could
supply him with work.

"I may be able to if you are competent," was the reply. "Have you ever
worked at the business?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"At Orange, where my home is."

"How long did you work at it?"

"Perhaps I had better tell you what I have done," said James.

He then gave an account of the barns he had been employed upon, and the
frame house which he had assisted to build for his mother.

"I don't set up for a first-class workman," he added, with a smile, "but
I think I can be of some use to you."

"I will try you, for I am rather pressed with work just now."

So, in a day or two James was set to work.

The carpenter found that it was as he had represented. He was not a
first-class workman. Indeed, he had only a rudimentary knowledge of the
trade, but he was quick to learn, and in a short time he was able to
help in many ways. His wages were not very large, but they were
satisfactory, since they enabled him to pay his expenses and keep his
head above water. Before the seventeen dollars were exhausted, he had
earned quite a sum by his labor in the carpenter's-shop.

About this time he received a letter from his brother.

"Dear James," he wrote, "I shall be glad to hear how you are getting
along. You took so little money with you that you may need more. If so,
let me know, and I will try to send you some."

James answered promptly: "Don't feel anxious about me, Thomas. I have
been fortunate enough to secure work at a carpenter's-shop, and my
expenses of living are very small. I intend not to call upon you or
mother again, but to pay my own way, if I keep my health."

He kept his word, and from that time did not find it necessary to call
either upon his mother or his good brother, who was prepared to make
personal sacrifices, as he had been doing all his life, that his younger
brother might enjoy advantages which he had to do without.

At length the summer vacation came. James had worked hard and won high
rank in his respective studies. He had a robust frame, and he seemed
never to get tired. No doubt he took especial interest in composition
and the exercises of the debating society which flourished at Geauga, as
at most seminaries of advanced education. In after-life he was so ready
and powerful in debate, that we can readily understand that he must have
begun early to try his powers. Many a trained speaker has first come to
a consciousness of his strength in a lyceum of boys, pitted against some
school-fellow of equal attainments. No doubt many crude and some
ludicrous speeches are made by boys in their teens, but at least they
learn to think on their feet, and acquire the ability to stand the gaze
of an audience without discomposure. A certain easy facility of
expression also is gained, which enables them to acquit themselves
creditably on a more important stage.