CHAPTER IV



    AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841--JUNIOR YEAR



                                GAMBIER, October 11, 1840.

  DEAR MOTHER: -- Here I am once more at my four years'

home and enjoying my full share of content and happiness.

Upon the whole, I am glad that I came back with the intention of

remaining through the winter. Though our teachers are not as

yet at their posts, I am so situated that I think, so far as depends

upon my own exertions, I shall gain much by remaining. At

present we recite to the Bishop and shall continue to do so till

the President arrives. As a teacher I like him very much. I

am very much pleased with my room and roommate (Solus);

the situation is high, dry, and healthy. I have risen (prepare for

a thunderstroke!) at the first bell. I have never before felt like

applying myself to my studies with such hearty good-will as at

the present session.

  Give my respects to Fanny, Jun., and please tell Fanny, Sen.,

to train up Fanny, Jun., in the way she should go, and when

she is old (following in the footsteps of her illustrious mother),

away she will go. Give my respects to the household, especially

Dolly.

                      Your affectionate son,

                                            R. B. HAYES.

  P.S.--I wish you would Wednesday morning buy and box

up some sweet potatoes and send them by the stage of that day.

Direct on the outside to me, Gambier, Ohio.  I want them for

two reasons; first, I like the potatoes; next, I want an excuse

to go to town [Mount Vernon] Wednesday.

  MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.



  February 10, 1841.--I shall try and write from memory a

history of my doings for the last two years, and not be so neg-

lectful for the future. [This he failed to do.]

                         (45)









46           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



  First, I will give a short sketch of the persons who have been

my classmates and my opinion of their character and ability.

  Lorin Andrews.--Left the class in 1840, (Ashland, Ohio.)

I was introduced to him the first day of my arrival at college.

My roommate who introduced me to him said he was a smart

fellow, a pretty good fellow about most things; rather too desirous

of popularity; would "suck in," as he expressed it. Mr. Andrews

is a young man of good natural ability, is very industrious at

whatever he undertakes. In fine, does everything with his whole

soul. Through freshman year he was invariably at the head of

the class in all the studies. In the winter term of sophomore

year he became interested in the establishment of a magazine,

called the Collegian; he spent his whole time in attempting to

carry this scheme into operation. He was indefatigable in his

exertions.  There was a large faction opposed to the measure,

but with the assistance of A. B. Buttles he finally forced the

measure through the "Old Philo" [Philomathesian Society].

But it failed before it got in operation, and Andrews left college

soon after. He was a warm supporter of General Harrison's;

went to the birthday convention at Columbus on the 22nd of

February, 1840, and came back a warm politician; spent last

summer "stumping it." In my opinion, he is a talented, ener-

getic, honorable young man, and if he will let politics alone, will

make a good lawyer.

  E. T. Austin, Texas.--Left the class in 1839. A Yankee by

birth, a Texan by adoption. In appearance he was pale, thin,

tall, and slim; he had no particular traits of character worthy

of mention, would do well to trap bullfrogs; commonly known

by the name of "Bones."--N.C., nuff ced.

  George Burnside, Gambier, Ohio.--A large, red-faced genius,

great at using figures of speech; is trying to make an orator;

has a good disposition. I should call him a sort of a cleverish

fellow.

  Gilbert  Mortier de la Fayette  Burnsides.--"What's in a

name?"    A  little  .  .  .; great at drawing pictures on the

blackboard. Q. S., quite sufficient. Left the class in 1839.









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          47



  Milton Boyd, Hillsboro, Ohio.--A large, full-grown man, say

twenty-three years old; a fine fellow; succeeds well among the

ladies; by no means smart.

  Guy M. Bryan, Texas.--Fully retrieves the character of

Texas. He is a Missourian by birth. He is a real gentleman,

holds his honor dear, respects the wishes and feelings of others,

is a warm and constant friend. Has good talents, though not a

good scholar. He will, I trust, figure largely in Texan history;

he is a true patriot.  [This prediction came true.  Bryan and

Hayes were lifelong intimate friends.]

  Douglas Case, Columbus, Ohio.--A good young man as ever

lived; never did but one bad deed, and that was to leave our

class; but that was unavoidable.

  Leander Comstock, Worthington, Ohio.--Has a good disposi-

tion, tolerable talents, and great industry; will, I hope, make a

tall man.

  Ezra Cridland, Philadelphia.--Could drink liquor and roll

into prayers; left in 1839.

  E. B. Goodrich, Sandusky City, Ohio.--Unworthy to be men-

tioned as one of the class. Left in 1839.

  S. Harrison, Mississippi.--A good-looking fellow--very fond

of sprees. Left in 1839.

  John Harris, Canton, Ohio.--A good fellow as far as I know

him. Left in 1838.

  R. B. Hayes, Columbus, Ohio.--The owner of this book; re-

markable for self-esteem.

  W.  R. Harelett, Zanesville, Ohio.--A good mathematician,

but poor at all else. Left in 1840.

  E. C. Hodgkin, Detroit, Michigan.--A devoted Christian; a

tolerable smart fellow. An Abolitionist, but an honest one. Left

in 1840.

  John Hickman, Paris, Kentucky.--John stutters. Ha! ha!

ha! Left in 1839.

  E. T. Kellogg, Cleveland, Ohio.--A good fellow, but has too

little control over himself. He left in 1841--dismissed.









48           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



  O. A. Kinsolving, Charlottesville, Virginia.--First-rate.  Will

graduate.

  A. B. Lamb, Delaware, Ohio.--My former roommate--a

fine fellow but lacks decision of character.  Will graduate.

  H. Lee, Coshocton, Ohio.--A good-natured Christian--not

smart. Left in 1839.

  P. Lyon,  Virginia.--The wildest little red-head that ever

moved. Left in 1839.

  G. W. Mason, Steubenville, Ohio.--A great inventive genius

and mathematician.  Good at heart--bad temper and quibbles.

[Will] graduate.

  Miller Moody, Mt.  Vernon, Ohio.--Smart but wild.  Dis-

missed 1839.

  [Character sketches were never completed.]





                               GAMBIER, FEBRUARY 10, 1841.

  DEAR MOTHER:--Do not be frightened that I should so soon

write again; nothing serious has happened, only I have turned

over a new leaf about writing letters. In one of our rhetoric

lessons the other day, there was a remark which struck me very

forcibly. The substance of it was "that nothing but exercise

could make a good epistolary writer"; and as I know of no one

upon whom I can more properly inflict a few letters than my

mother, I hope you will brace yourself to the task of reading a

series of letters from my honorable self, and if you should ever

grow weary or faint beneath the affliction, just recollect the old

proverb that "no evil is so great that a cheerful heart cannot

overcome it."

  As this is the first letter of the first series I am in some doubt

how to commence it.  Shall I commence in the sky and come

down to particulars? Or shall I commence with myself and the

college-bell? By the way, just thank your fortune that you was

never placed under the brazen tyranny of a college-bell. Some-

where in the New Testament it says "there is a time for all

things." Now, the bell aforesaid acts upon the principle that

there is no time to eat, sleep, or be merry, but only a time for









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          49



reciting, or, when it is in a peculiarly agreeable mood, it some-

times grants us a little time to study, but those moods are like

"angels' visits, etc." Where was I when I went off on this tan-

gent? No difference, though, where I was.

  Sometimes I used to conceal from you my troubles and vexa-

tions, but those times are gone, and to be confidential--I am

almost out of ink and I shall have to walk full two hundred

yards to get some more; besides the weather is very cold. You

know how I hate long walks in a cold day--especially towards

church. But, as you know, I am a good deal of a philosopher,

and I'm determined not to let either the bell or the want of ink

destroy my peace. "What can't be cured must be endured," as

Shakespeare says, and as I almost said. I presume by this time

you have discovered that I have a great talent of writing "multum

in parvo."

  For fear you have not yet heard the news, I will here remark

that our President has--not arrived. But five short weeks are

left till this session closes. It has passed over very quick, and as I

have to prepare a something between now and then, the remainder

of it will pass equally fast. The thought occasionally comes

into my head, what shall I do after leaving college? Now, I

would not have you think that it troubles me, for I have no fears

that I shall starve as long as I have "teeth and toe-nails." If

I could have a good farm I would love to be a farmer, but if

not I shall spend all the money I can lay fingers on to get a good

and complete education, and when I am entirely run out I will

practice law in some little dirty hole out West. I hope you will

say nothing of all this to the rest of the family for although they

may be deeply interested in my affairs, yet there is no mother

among them.

  I have just received Fan's letter. I am glad to hear you have

got good help, especially as you have so much company. I wish

I was at home. I enjoy such times very much. You must

manage to get Hat a husband in Columbus; it would not do for

such old friends as her and Fan to live apart. Tell F. I will

answer her letter very soon. She forgot to mention anything of

Bob and though she expatiated largely on the babe she forgot to

   4









50           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



mention her weight. Now, such negligence as this in two such

important particulars is not to be tolerated in this enlightened age.

  I have a touch of my old complaint--sore throat. Perhaps

William can give me some advice on the subject. I would be

tempted to steam it if I thought it would do any good, for this

being half-sick I do not like.

  As to my private affairs, I am just middling.  My "ordinary

expenses," as Mr. Benton would say, will not be so great as I had

expected by some considerable, but my "extraordinary expenses"

will be greater. I believe I told you that our class are a-going to

appear in a uniform suit in the Spring.  Now, the suit will be

a very cheap one in comparison to what is usual, but still a com-

plete dress from stock to boots cannot be procured for nothing.

I do not know how much it will cost.  I will write again soon

and tell you. I received the lamp-wicks. They were of right

kind.                    Your affectionate son,

                                                R. B. HAYES.

  MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.

                                GAMBIER, February 25, 1841.

  TO WHOM--This letter should be directed is a question of

some interest to me as the answer will be, I hope, of much real

value, but of no importance to you. There is an advantage in

not directing to anyone in particular arising from various

weighty causes, among which the most prominent are: Friend

Trowbridge just came in and desired me to assist him in writing

a comedy of which the foundation is to be an amusing incident

which occurred in this neighborhood last evening. One of the

belles of this place, Miss Lane, engaged a short time ago to marry

a young tailor as soon as the balmy breezes began to blow in

April. By the way, I should have described the charms of in-

tellect and person which Miss L. possesses: She is tall and

slender, about the height of a liberty pole and the thickness of a

ramrod. Her golden locks in truth hang down her cheeks like sea-

weed round a clam; but if her form is lofty, majestic, and com-

manding, and her hair rich with the tallow of many a candle,

her features are emphatically "noice" and inspire ideas of solemn

sublimity. Her skin is a beautiful dark yellow, and in addition









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          51



to all these charms, she has long sharp teeth of which she is,

I think, quite vain for she is always showing them, so that they

are sunburnt to about the color of her hair; lanthorn jaws, and

broad flabby ears,--

         "A combination and a form, indeed

          Where all the gods did seem to set their seal,

          To give assurance of a 'belle.'"

  But besides her personal accomplishments, she was so graceful

in her movements, and so tasty in her dress, that it is by no

means strange that she should have many admirers. When she

came into church she waved her head to and fro till every ribbon

rattled in the whirlwind she created. At her entrance her beaux

would stretch and twist their necks within an ace of dislocation,

and even the students manifested their pleasure by sundry winks

and grins. Wherever she moved she was "the observed of all

observers." But, to the happy man whom she blessed with her

favors: He is a little fat, duck-legged "knight of the goose,"

bearing as much semblance to that beautiful bird as any other

work of nature or art that I know of.

  Well, this "lofty Ben Lomond and little Ben Docky" were to

be joined in the holy bonds of wedlock sometime in the ensuing

spring. But lo and behold, last night a stalwart farmer from

down creek came to her father's to be married to her according

to promise. Here was a pretty fix! Her parents knew of the

last engagement; after the "evening was far spent," her father

concluded to inform "little Ben Docky" of the cause of their

sorrows. When he heard the news, it seemed as though his heart-

strings were broken. He sat him down and wept bitterly, after

which he revived and determined to go and see what could be

done on this trying occasion. When Miss L. saw him, she felt

like a lofty pine riven with a flash of lightning; in other words,

she fainted.

          "0, what a fall was there, my countrymen,

           0, what a noble mind was here o'erthrown!"

  When she recovered from her swoon, it was agreed that the

two beaux should stand out in the middle of the floor and she









52           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



was then to choose between them.  What a scene for a painter

her old father and mother, some ten or a dozen tall boys and

girls, the two candidates for the prize! The character was, how-

ever, Miss L. There she stood like a weeping-willow, now in-

clined this way, now that. All was still.

        "'Twas now the [very] witching time of night,

         When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out

         Contagion to this world."

  Finally with a heaving bosom and a long-drawn sigh, she

chose the little tailor. But here a new difficulty arose; the farmer

had the license! The tailor was not long in obtaining one. But

while he was gone, his rival declared he was willing to lose the

wife but not the seventy-five cents he paid for the license, and

he would not consent to the wedding without whipping her enough

to pay for that. At last the affair was consummated and the

tailor and his Dulcinea are man and wife. Thus endeth the

chapter.

  On the evening of the 22d we illuminated the college with the

materials we had collected for the arrival of President Douglass.*

It was a splendid affair.

  I like the Dutchman's gems if not his clothes.

  Another thing I would like to know, sis, would it be conven-

ient to have one of my friends visit at your house a portion of

vacation? If so, speak, "if not, forever after hold thy peace!"

  Our exhibition goes off Tuesday evening, three weeks from

last evening--at the close of the session.

  I should be glad to receive from headquarters the sum of nine

hundred and ninety-nine dollars, but do not dare to ask for more

than thirty-five dollars.

                          I am as ever,

                                                R. B. HAYES.

  P.S.--The friend of whom I spoke is either Bryan or Trow-

bridge, probably the latter.--R. B. H.



  *David Bates Douglass, the first independent President of Kenyon.

Before his time the Bishop of Ohio had been ex officio President.









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          53



  P.P.S.--Give my love to baby, Dolly, and Hatty. "The last

shall be first and the first last."

  MR. AND MRS. WHOM.

  MR. AND MRS. WM. A. PLATT.

                                      GAMBIER, June, 1841.

  DEAR MOTHER:--I should have written to you long since had

it not been that I expected you to come over here previous to

returning home from Delaware. Mr. and Mrs. Pettibone were

here last week, from [whom] I first learned that you had re-

turned to Columbus. You must be sure to come here sometime

during this session. There never has been a time when I could

receive so much pleasure from the visits of any of my friends

as at present. The accommodations here are by no means good

unless Mr. Blake invites strangers to the Hall; but there is no

prospect of their being better while I remain.  I presume there

is no need of my urging you to come as you would probably

come without, if you had a good opportunity.

  About college, matters go on in about the same old course.

The President has introduced a few novel plans and undertaken

some reforms.  He has succeeded but indifferently in either.

He doubtless means very well in all he attempts, but from an

authoritative manner acquired in the army, he is becoming some-

what unpopular among the students. Three foolish freshmen

got into a little trouble with him. One was dismissed, and the

other two left in disgust, expressing a profound contempt for

the President, faculty, and all concerned. Their departure caused

no very great sensation among their fellows; the sun has con-

tinued to give his light (besides a little heat, for variety's sake),

and I have observed no deviation from the established laws of

nature.

  Four new plans have been introduced which are of some im-

portance. Medals are to be given to the best scholars in each

class on application being made at the end of the college course.

>From present appearances, I think no one in my class will apply.

Comstock, of Worthington, would be most likely to obtain one.

He [the President] has also ordained that all students shall be

matriculated--a heathenish rite imported from England; very









54           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



proper in large institutions, but its main object here appears to

be the raising a fund to pay for the medals I just spoke of.

  A new rule has been established that each student shall choose

from among the faculty some one who is to be his adviser and

friend in all matters in which assistance is desired and is to be

the medium of communication between the student and faculty.

This I like very much. My patron is a tutor in the Grammar

School who has graduated since I came here. Upon the whole,

the President governs very well for those who intend to take

every opportunity to evade the laws. But he is rather hard on

those who are disposed to conduct themselves properly.

  It is a mistake that Hedges, of Tiffin, was dismissed from

Cambridge. He could not enter because he had no certificate

to show that he left here in good standing. He came here a

few days ago and was readmitted into the institution. I hope

he will not be so rash in future.

  Bryan was perfectly delighted with his visit to you. He said

he had not felt so much at home since he left Texas as he did

the short time he staid with you. He was very much pleased

with Uncle and in fact all concerned.

  Sore eyes are prevalent nowadays. Three seniors are pre-

vented from pursuing their studies, among whom is my old

friend Trowbridge. It is rather troublesome for them as they

all have orations to prepare previous to Commencement. Love

to Sophy and all the rest.

                        Your affectionate son,

                                               R. B. HAYES.

  MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.



   [The Diary which now begins was continued, although with

frequent intermissions of greater or less duration, from this

time to the end of Hayes's life.]

  Kenyon College, June II, 1841.--In commencing this diary

I have several objects in view, among the principal of which are

improvement in composition and amusement. From having al-

ways neglected composition, and from the trouble which the

mere mechanical execution of a piece of writing occasions me,









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          55



I find great difficulty in putting my thoughts upon paper in a

clear and satisfactory manner.  Even when I sit down to write

a letter the ideas which I had previously collected suddenly

vanish, leaving me to twirl my pen and thump my head in a vain

attempt to recover them. In writing and conversing, I am often

much vexed at the awkward expressions I am compelled to use

for want of words with which to clothe my ideas. This, too, is

one of my greatest difficulties in extempore speaking. I have,

I think, several of the qualities requisite to become a ready

speaker, but for want of fluency, I never succeed in my extem-

pore efforts as I would wish.

  By keeping a diary in which to record my thoughts, desires,

and resolves, I expect to promote stability of character. This

is a quality of [in] which I am by no means willing to acknowl-

edge myself deficient; but if I commit to writing all of my re-

solves, I shall be more careful not to make them hastily, and

when they are made I shall be more anxious to keep them. In

addition to these positive benefits, I hope to derive amusement in

after days from the perusal of my youthful anticipations, broken

resolves, and strange desires.

  I shall not yet determine how much or how often I will write

lest the next page will contain the confession of a broken vow.

  June 17.--How true is the old proverb that "delay is the thief

of time." Almost a week has passed since I commenced this

diary and the first page still remains to be written. Neither

want of time nor inclination has occasioned this neglect, but

simply the habit of putting off till tomorrow what should be done

today. I have, it is true, had nothing of importance to relate,

but if I make it a rule not to write till something of moment

occurs, I fear my diary would end where it commenced.

  I will devote the remainder of this page to mentioning some

of the traits of character for which the hero of these etchings

is most particularly remarkable. He has, in the first place, a

very good opinion of himself, which can by no means be con-

sidered a failing, for if a man does not esteem himself, he

would certainly be very silly to expect the esteem of others.

And although he is also well convinced of the importance of self-









56           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



esteem, there is, perhaps, no one more anxious to conceal it than

he is. Again, there is no one who more heartily detests open

flattery than he does, and yet, strange to say, it sometimes sounds

very pleasant to his ears; it puts him in such good humor with

himself, and of course, with all about him, that he seems like

quite another being while under its agreeable influence. He is

so inconsistent as to wish to conceal this feature of his character,

too, though he declares most positively that all men can be flat-

tered, the only difference being that some are more accessible to

its approaches than others. At first sight, or I should rather say

thought, it seems surprising that he should wish to conceal what

he considers no disgrace, but it is only one of the thousand

errings of poor human nature. He has his share also of that

"great Caucasus," ambition, and as he loves to excel, it cannot

be denied that he loves to have it known. It is no part of his

creed that deception may be practiced to give others a high

opinion of his attainments, for common sense teaches him that

an undeserved reputation is of more injury than benefit.

  I spoke above of his self-esteem. Now, I do not mean that he

entertains an exalted opinion of his talents or acquirements, but

merely that he thinks  himself possessed of a good share of

common sense, by which is meant a sound practical judgment of

what is correct in the common affairs of life. He often betrays

this peculiar kind of self-esteem by reflections like the follow-

ing: "If I only had C's talents, what a figure I would make in

the world."  The  reason of his entertaining so favorable an

opinion of his common sense is that his family and relatives

are somewhat remarkable for the possession of it, and he thinks

it runs in the blood.  Moreover, he has often been told  (good

authority) that he has a family share of this good quality. Here

I am compelled, very reluctantly, to leave this interesting and

improving subject to attend to my recitations.  It shall be re-

sumed, however, the first opportunity.

  June 19.--There is perhaps no feature of character of more

importance  in life than decision.    Without it a human being,

with powers at best but feeble, and surrounded by numerous

things tending to perplex, to divert, or to oppress their opera-









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          57



tions, is indeed [a] pitiable atom, the sport of diverse and casual

impulses.  It is a question then of no little moment to every

one whether he has a character such that when his decision is

formed and purpose fixed, that he may feel an entire assurance

that something will be done. This question is much more easily

asked than answered. I have been for a long time convinced

of the necessity of obeying the injunction, "Know thyself." But

after studying my own disposition with a good degree of dili-

gence, I am satisfied that the motives and desires which rule

in my breast are, indeed, "past all finding out." There have

been times when I exercised considerable firmness and decision,

apparently without exertion. At other times, after making the

best of resolutions, I find the strenuous will to carry them into

effect almost entirely wanting. Considering my age and cir-

cumstances, I do not think myself more deficient in this quality

than other persons; but, be this as it may, I am determined from

henceforth to use what means I have to acquire a character

distinguished for energy, firmness, and perseverance.

  As I am now in the humor of writing, I will put down a few

of my present hopes and designs for the sake of keeping them

safe. I do not intend to leave here until about a year after I

graduate, when I expect to commence the study of law. Be-

fore then I wish to become a master of logic and rhetoric and to

obtain a good knowledge of history. To accomplish these ob-

jects I am willing to study hard, in which case I believe I can

make, at least, a tolerable debater.   It is another intention of

mine, that after I have commenced in life, whatever may be my

ability or station, to preserve a reputation for honesty and benev-

olence; and if ever I am a public man I will never do anything

inconsistent with the character of a true friend and good citizen.

To become such a man I shall necessarily have to live in accord-

ance with the precepts of the Bible, which I firmly believe,

although I have never made them strictly the "rule of my con-

duct."--Thus ends this long dry chapter on self.

  Kenyon College, June 21.--The mail of today brings me sad

news from home. My sister has lost her first and only child,









58           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



a charming little girl almost eight months old. "Nature and

fortune joined to make her beautiful."

          "She might of nature's gifts with lilies boast

          And with the half-blown rose."

  My sister's letter betrays all those feelings of mingled love and

sorrow which so well become a mother.  She takes a melancholy

pleasure in recounting the numberless charms of her darling

little Sophia. She has now learned by her own experience the

dread reality that "death is indeed a terrible thing." Alas,

         "She must never, never

          Behold her pretty Sarah more,

          Till she meets her in the court of Heaven."

  Great as my sorrow is, I almost forget it when I think of the

anguish of the fond and doting parents.        If ever child  was

idolized by father and mother, it was the one just lost. In one

short day she passed from time [to] eternity. In the morning

she was taken from her pillow full of mirth and glee, her sweet

smiles diffusing joy around her, and before the setting of the

sun she was gone, gone forever!

  So little does Fanny realize the absence of the loved one, that

in her letter she says, "Soon she would have learned to stretch

out her little arms to you as she does to her father." She can-

not speak of her as passed. What would the bereaved mother

give to know that word need not be changed! Though I know

she has bid a long farewell to the "child of her soul," she still

has firmness to say, "Time will heal the wound." I sincerely

hope it will.

  How similar my  feelings now are to those I had when John

Wasson died more than two years ago. The shock was equally

sudden, equally unexpected. But the words of grief are few.

  June 25.--I have not taken up my pen this evening because

I have something to write, but only because I feel like doing

nothing else. The Society kept me up so late last night, that

I have been too sleepy to do anything today. It's lucky I thought

of this for it has furnished me with a good subject to write

about: The performances in the Philomathesian Society.









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          59



  The first which I shall notice is a composition which was read

by a very sleek-faced, well-disposed sophomore whose chief mis-

fortune is that he imagines himself a favorite of the "Sacred

Nine." Dame Nature having gifted Mr. Lewis with considerable

more vanity than common sense, he was easily persuaded by a

waggish lecturer on phrenology that he had a head very similar

in some respects to Lord Byron's. From this resemblance in

craniums, he at once conceived the idea that he must be a poetic

genius. Nor is there anything singular in this fancy of his,

for he had probably heard that every one had a genius for some-

thing, and knowing that he had a genius for nothing else, he

very logically deduced the conclusion that he was a "born poet."

Never was a silly moonstruck lover more mistaken. His verses

have neither wit, sense, nor rhyme. As for metre, it is a "trifle"

which he utterly abhors; his intellect is not to be measured by the

square and compass. When severely criticized on this point,

he talks very learnedly of dactyls, spondees, hexameters, tri-

meter and dimeter verse; but it requires a great stretch of the

imagination to perceive anything in his "lines" worthy [even of]

the appellation "doggerel." The composition in question was a

poetical effusion on the decline of the Indian race, a topic so

novel that it was fully equal to the gentleman's mind and poetry.

Before he had half finished his pathetic farewell, I involuntarily

exclaimed, "Lo the poor Indian!" and when he reached the

last feeling stanzas,

                 "Ah! poor Indian, to you

                 I bid a long and last adieu,"

my eyes unconsciously suffused with tears, and no longer able

to restrain the powerful emotions that swelled my bosom, I burst

into a--horse-laugh.  Seriously, however, if Mr. Lewis would

stick to sober prose and abandon "lines with ragged ends," he

might make a tolerable writer. But, "Poesy thou wast undone

and from thy native country driven."

          "How hard it is to hide the sparks of genius."

                                          --Shakespeare.*



  *The ascription of this line to Shakespeare is, of course, made in pure

irony.









60           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



  June 29--Since writing the above description of Mr. Lewis'

poetical effusions, I have been somewhat fearful that I violated

sundry good resolutions, which I once made concerning the gov-

ernment of my tongue.     I make it a rule never to seek an op-

portunity to speak ill of any individual, and if it is my duty to

blame, to do it in as mild terms as the subject admits of.  I did

not make this determination because I thought I was disposed

to question the motives of others, or to censure without suffi-

cient reason; but lest by frequently indulging in remarks more

severe than the occasion warrants, I may contract a habit of

slandering my acquaintances which will grow stronger [and]

stronger till the odious practice becomes a confirmed habit which

cannot be shaken off.  I saw a remark of Bacon on this subject

which struck me as well worthy of remembrance.  "There is,"

said he, "with the young and old a prevalent habit of talking of

persons rather than things.  This is seldom innocent and often

pregnant with many evils.    Such conversation insensibly slides

into detraction, and by dwelling on offenses we expose our own

souls to contagion, and are betrayed into feelings of pride, envy,

jealousy; and even when we speak in terms of commendation we

are sure to come in with a but at the last, and drive a nail in

our neighbor's reputation."    My own experience furnishes me

with abundant proofs of the truth of this sentiment; but by

regarding my resolution with care I hope to deserve a name far

better than the slanderer's.

  Another of the good resolutions referred to is, that while in

the Society, I will do nothing calculated to produce disorder, or

anything likely to have an evil tendency.   My love of fun is so

great, and my perception of the ludicrous so quick, that I laugh at

everything witty, and say all I can to add to the general mirth.

Now, this [is] agreeable enough at times, but the tendency to

carry it to extremes is so great that I shall stop it entirely in

future, if I can.

  My last resolution is to act from no motives which I should

be ashamed to avow.--There goes the bell.

  Kenyon College, July 3, 1841.--The academical duties of the

institution were suspended today for the purpose of celebrating









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          61



the sixty-fifth anniversary of our national independence.   There

being no celebration at college, many of the students went to

Mount Vernon to witness a military display. I remained here and

did nothing more patriotic than to split a log with a charge of

powder, and raise a streamer on the East Wing with a Har-

rison handkerchief at my window.      In the forenoon I gathered

mulberries in company with Jimmy Smith, of Dayton, and in

the afternoon we ate them in Bryan's room assisted by Case and

Dewalt.   This way of spending the glorious Fourth does not

make a very good appearance on paper, but I presume we de-

rived as much pleasure and profit from our little picnic as thou-

sands of others did from celebrations which cost them far more

time, trouble, and expense.

  How wonderfully has the prediction of John Adams been

verified, that the action of the Continental Congress, July 4,

1776, has made this a "great and good day."  Slight, indeed,

were their hopes that the recurrence of this day would be hailed

with mingled feelings of pride and joy and gratitude by so many

millions of fellow-beings.  With what truth was it foretold that

the Fourth of July would be celebrated with illuminations, bon-

fires, and roaring of cannon. From my window (No. 17 E. W.

[East Wing]) I can see the boys at Milnor Hall, by the light of

their bonfire, throwing fireballs.  I can even hear their glad

hurrahs as they skip and dance around the blaze in perfect

ecstasy. What delight I have taken in such scenes; but these

no longer afford enjoyment.     Yet I do not know but I am as

happy as ever.  This calls to mind the various ways in which

I have spent this day.

  Last Fourth, 1840, we had a celebration here.   Milton Elliot

delivered the oration and the Declaration of Independence was

read by A. B. Buttles. I displayed my zeal by acting as pay-

master-general, raising flags, and cutting poles.   Many of my

friends spent the day at Harrison conventions in the neighboring

towns.   I was sorry I did not attend one of them as the political

fever was raging to a remarkable degree.

  [In] 1839, we had a glorious celebration here. The oration

of Mr. Lightner's was very good and the dinner most excellent.









62           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



After dinner, some speeches were made at the chapel, in which

some things were said which created a difficulty between a noble

warm-hearted Kentuckian  and the orator of the day.   The

sectional feeling which then existed was at once aroused. The

members of the rival societies each espoused the cause of their

own member and a serious disturbance appeared unavoidable.

After much useless disputing, Mr. Andrews, of my class, and

Mr. Elliot proposed that we should take a short march to the

tune of Yankee Doodle. This was immediately agreed to and

the spirit-stirring notes of this favorite air recalled at once to

the minds of the combatants the fact that we were all Americans,

so that the dispute was amicably settled and we marched to college

better friends than ever. I trust all other sectional divisions and

disputes may always be as fortunately ended as this.

  July 6.--The last time I wrote in my diary I was telling the

ways in which I spent some of the Fourths in former years.

  In 1838 I was at the school of Mr. Webb in Middletown,

Connecticut. On the Fourth of July there was a union celebra-

tion over in the college grounds, but in company with most of my

school-fellows I passed the day firing a little two-pounder, swim-

ming, and eating. My companions were H. C. Chauncey, Wm. G.

Lane, and E. B. Colt, of Paterson, New Jersey. We made a

great noise and, of course, were in fine spirits.

   [In] 1837 I was in Delaware, [Ohio]. After some consulta-

tion with J. Turney and M. D. Covell, we thought best to employ

ourselves in diminishing the number of the fowl of the air and

[the] beasts of the field which have multiplied so amazingly since

old Noah's time. After making the necessary arrangements,

such as filling our pockets with biscuits, butter, salt, and pepper,

we sallied forth with one shotgun and a lead cannon to spread

terror and dismay among the natives of the forest. We first

bent our steps towards the Olentangy, where after wandering

about in mud and mire for a couple of hours without encoun-

tering anything more formidable than an occasional bullfrog,

we sat ourselves down upon a huge brown log to consult upon

our future course. We debated for some time without approach-

ing any conclusion, when a new character appeared on the stage









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841          63



who at once decided our counsels. This was no less a personage

than one Bob White, whose shrill calls from the other side of

the river at once induced us to roll up our pants and wade over

to cultivate more closely his acquaintance. Arrived safely on the

opposite shore, we despatched Covell with the old fusee to put a

stop to the clamor of the innocent quail. After waiting several

minutes we were surprised that Covell did not shoot, and our

astonishment was no way diminished at hearing Bob White ring-

ing away at pretty regular intervals. Turney and myself soon

began to make various amusing conjectures as to where Covell

could have betaken himself. After waiting a few minutes longer

in breathless suspense, our minds were filled with fearful fore-

bodings as to his life. We looked at one another in silence,

but the workings of our countenances betrayed the terror of our

breasts more vividly than words could tell.

  We simultaneously started for the point where Covell had

disappeared in the thicket. Carefully putting aside the bushes,

we advanced with extreme caution towards the place where our

old friend the quail was exercising his lungs with undiminished

vigor. When we had approached very close to the spot whence

the sound proceeded, we stopped and stooping low peered

anxiously around among the bushes. At last my eyes met the

form of my lost friend kneeling as if in prayer. Good Heavens! 

my worst fears were realized. He had been bitten by a rattlesnake

concealed in the underbrush, and was now with his last breath

offering up a prayer for his final safety! My head spun round

with giddiness; a mist clouded my sight; I reeled and would

have swooned. But at this instant I heard Covell, in tones more

of vexation than entreaty, exclaim: "I wish the man that made

this lock had it down his throat." I revived as if from the in-

fluence of some potent spell. I spoke in accents which betrayed

the trepidation I had felt: "Why, Covell what are you about?" "I

snapped at this quail till I got tired and then used a box of

matches up trying to touch off this rotten powder, and now if Mr.

Quail don't get off that log 'quicker than Hell can scorch a

feather,' I'll knock his brains out with the ramrod." He sprang

forward, the quail flew, and I roared with laughter. We hunted

no more that day, but ate up our biscuits and went home content.









64           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



  July 11.--July 4, 1836, I was at Norwalk Seminary, which

was then under the direction of Mr. Chaplin, a Methodist clergy-

man, formerly a lawyer of some note in Champaign County. He

spent the early part of his life in every kind of licentiousness, but

finally becoming religious, he commenced preaching and is now a

man of much usefulness and exemplary piety.  I fired cannon

through the day and ate figs, raisins, and sugarplums between

times. My companions were Picket, Webb, and Lewis Mc-

Ardle.  Upon the whole we had a jolly time of it.

  July 4, 1835, I was in Delaware, but who were my com-

panions or what I did has long since slipped my memory.  I

presume, however, I burned powder, ate candy, and followed

the trainers [militiamen], as that was usually the order of exer-

cise for such occasions.

  July 12.--Independence Day, 1834, I was visiting Uncle

Austin in company with my mother and sister, at Fayetteville,

Vermont. About I o'clock P. M., as Charles Birchard and my-

self were intently engaged firing a small cannon, news came that

an old man across the square had cut his throat.  We hastened

over there as fast as our legs could carry us, and sure enough

there lay a poor miserable wretch with his throat sawed from

ear to ear, and a bloody chopping knife still quivering in his old

fingers. A physician who lived near by examined his wound and

said he could not live more than half an hour.  Some of the

bystanders then lifted him into a shady place and laid him on the

green grass to bleed away his life. While he was heaving and

groaning most piteously, I could not but think of the horrors of

war.   My  dreams had often been of military fame, of the

laurels which adorn the victor's brow, the pride, pomp, and cir-

cumstance of glorious war; but the sight of this dying man

affected me so much that I thought I should never again desire

to witness the glories of a battlefield, if its terrors were such as

this.  The moment he was out of my sight, these feelings van-

ished like a dream and I laughed at my former emotions.

  The remembrance of national jubilees previous to 1834 has

ceased to remind.    These occasions then seemed great indeed;

they are gone, gone forever.

          "A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour."









             AT KENYON COLLEGE, 1840-1841         65



  The first oration I ever heard was delivered by Ralph Hills,

M.D., in the Presbyterian church at Delaware, one Fourth, but

what year it was, what I thought of it, who can tell? Why, not

I, faith!

  July 29.--More than two weeks have slipped by since I last

opened my diary.   Since then I have been examined in most

of my studies for the past session.   My success was very good

in all of them.   I was best satisfied with my examination in

logic and rhetoric.  Those studies I have taken much interest

in.  I shall review them at my leisure, and hope in time to be-

come a perfect master of logic.

  How  strangely swift the time does fly.  Only think, in one

little week I shall be a senior; a year, and then a graduate. But

who can tell what changes a year may bring? Short as the

three years since I entered college now seem, they have wrought

great changes in my views of things and, perhaps, greater still

in my anticipations and designs.  I have always been ambitious,

dreaming of future glory, of performing some virtuous or pa-

triotic action, but it has been all dreams, and no reality.  From

my earliest recollection, I have thought I had great power in me;

yet at the same time I was fully satisfied of my present insig-

nificance and mental weakness.    I have imagined that at some

future time I could do considerable; but the more I learn, the

more I feel my littleness.

  Well, I must stop these outpourings of youthful folly and

proceed to other matters.  I have just taken a roommate,  J.

A. Little.  He enters the freshman class as I enter the senior.

He is very industrious, has a fine disposition and tolerable

abilities.  I only hope his talents are equal to his temper.     I

shall do all I can to help him on the way to distinction.    I an-

ticipate great pleasure and some profit from the society of my

new chum.

  Kenyon College, August 1, 1841.--A few weeks since two of

my friends, Bryan and Kinsolving, proposed to me a project

they had been thinking of concerning the foundation of a club, to

be composed of a few select friends, whose main object should

be to promote "firm and enduring friendship among its members."

   5









66           RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES



I expressed some doubt as to the probability of its success, fearing

that it would sink as soon as we left college. I however promised

to aid them heart and hand, believing it would be a source of

much pleasure to us even if its existence should cease when we

left. The scheme was then proposed to several others, all of

whom were strongly in favor of it. Accordingly a meeting was

held in my room to consider the matter, at which were present

Bryan, Kinsolving, Lang, Comstock, Dewalt, Boyd, Case, Trow-

bridge, and myself, and we were the founders of the Phi Zeta

Club.   We held several meetings, adopted Philia Zoe  (Friend-

ship for Life) for our motto, procured canes for badges, and

made several regulations which we thought necessary to secure

the prosperity and permanency of the club.

  Last evening we chose Milton Elliot a member, although he

leaves the institution next week. He possessed so large a share of

the "milk of human kindness," we could not bear to have him

leave without joining our fraternity. He was much gratified

with the partiality we exhibited toward him and made us a

very feeling little speech, promising faithfully to perform his duty

as an absent member, which is to write to the club once each

session. Our first literary performances were read last evening,

consisting of three essays and a farewell address from the presi-

dent. They were all good. Mr. Kinsolving's farewell, in par-

ticular, would have been highly creditable to any writer. After

the meeting adjourned we retired to partake of a feast, not quite

so intellectual, but nevertheless quite good, furnished by friend

Bryan. When the supper was honorably discharged or rather

despatched, we returned to Kinsolving's room to chat a little and

then retired to rest after one of the pleasantest evenings I ever

spent anywhere.

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