The girls regarded him as a cross between a sweet and charming boy to be spoiled—­one night, when he had a toothache, they all sat up with him—­and a phenomenon of nature of which they stood a trifle in awe.  But the last was when he was not present and they fell to discussing him.  And with them, as with all women, he wore, because to the gay vivacity and polished manners of his Gallic inheritance he added the rugged sincerity of the best of Britons; and in the silences of his heart he was too sensible of the inferiority of the sex, out of which, first and last, he derived so much pleasure, not to be tender and considerate of it always.

Before the year of 1773 was out Mr. Barber pronounced him ready for college, and, his choice being Princeton, he presented himself to Dr. Witherspoon and demanded a special course which would permit him to finish several years sooner than if he graduated from class to class.  He knew his capacity for conquering mental tasks, and having his own way to make in the world, had no mind to waste years and the substance of his relatives at college.  Dr. Witherspoon, who had long been deeply interested in him, examined him privately and pronounced him equal to the heavy burden he had imposed upon himself, but feared that the board of trustees would not consent to so original a plan.  They would not.  Hamilton, nothing daunted, applied to King’s College, and found no opposition there.  He entered as a private student, attached to no particular class, and with the aid of a tutor began his customary annihilation of time.  Besides entering upon a course of logic, ethics, mathematics, history, chronology, rhetoric, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, all the modern languages, and Belles Lettres, he found time to attend Dr. Clossy’s lectures on anatomy, with his friend Stevens, who was studying medicine as a profession.

King’s was a fine building facing the North River and surrounded by spacious grounds shaded by old sycamores and elms.  There were many secluded corners for thought and study.  A more favourite resort of Alexander’s was Batteau Street, under whose great elms he formed the habit of strolling and muttering his lessons, to the concern of the passer-by.  In his hours of leisure he rollicked with Stevens and his new friends, Nicolas Fish and Robert Troup.  The last, a strong and splendid specimen of the young American collegian, had assumed at once the relation of big brother to the small West Indian, but was not long discovering that Hamilton could take care of himself; was flown at indeed by two agile fists upon one occasion, when protectiveness, in Alexander’s measurement, rose to interference.  But they formed a deep and lifelong friendship, and Troup, who was clever and alert, without brilliancy, soon learned to understand Hamilton, and was not long recognizing potentialities of usefulness to the American cause in his genius.