morn;
  And wandering thence along the rolling years,
  I see the shadow of my former self
  Gliding from childhood up to man’s estate. 
  The path of youth winds down through many a vale,
  And on the brink of many a dread abyss,
  From out whose darkness comes no ray of light,
  Save that a phantom dances o’er the gulf,
  And beckons toward the verge.  Again, the path
  Leads o’er a summit where the sunbeams fall;
  And thus, in light and shade, sunshine and gloom,
  Sorrow and joy, this life-path leads along.”

During the year 1856 young Garfield was one of the editors of the college magazine, from which the above extracts are made.  The hours spent upon his contributions to its pages were doubtless well spent.  Here, to use his own words, he learned “to hurl the lance and wield the sword and thus prepare for the conflict of life.”  More than one whose names have since become conspicuous contributed to it while under his charge.  Among these were Professor Chadbourne, S.G.W.  Benjamin, Horace E. Scudder, W.R.  Dimmock, and John Savary.  The last-named, now resident in Washington, has printed, since his old friend’s death, a series of sonnets, from which I quote one: 

  “How many and how great concerns of state
    Lie at the mercy of the meanest things! 
    This man, the peer of presidents and kings;
  Nay, first among them, passed through dangers gate
  In war unscathed, and perils out of date,
    To meet a fool whose pistol-shot yet rings
    Around the world, and at mere greatness flings
  The cruel sneer of destiny or fate! 
  Yet hath he made the fool fanatic foil
    To valor, patience, nobleness, and wit! 
    Nor had the world known, but because of it,
  What virtues grow in suffering’s sacred soil. 
    The shot which opened like a crack of hell,
    Made all hearts stream with sacred pity’s well
    And showed that unity in which we dwell.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE CANAL-BOY BECOMES A COLLEGE PRESIDENT.

During his second winter vacation a great temptation assailed James.  It was not a temptation to do wrong.  That he could easily have resisted.

I must explain.

At Prestenkill, a country village six miles from Troy, N.Y., the young student organized a writing school, to help defray his expenses.  Having occasion to visit Troy, his interest in education led him to form an acquaintance with some of the teachers and directors of the public schools.

One of these gentlemen, while walking with him over the sloping sides of a hill overlooking the city, said:  “Mr. Garfield, I have a proposition to make to you.”

The student listened with interest.

“There is a vacancy in one of our public schools.  We want an experienced teacher, and I am sure you will suit us.  I offer you the place, with a salary of twelve hundred dollars a year.  What do you say?”