The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-02-03


marks or dog's-leaves to disfigure the
pages. He wrote a beautiful hand, like
copper-plate, and in the writing class,
as well as the rest, he was tdct5e
princeps. Well might he look with
scorn on my slovenly dress, my books
all thumbed and torn and on my hand
writing, which was i'll to make out as
heather Greek. Well might he be held
up to me, as he was, for a shining light
and an example, 'Tammas Carlyle, go
out and wash your face; when will Ye
learn to be tidy, like Alexander Mac
phersonP 'Tammas, your books are a
disgrace; do We mo- think shame when
We see the books of Alexander Macpher-
sonP For shame, Tammas, for shame;
do you ever see Alexander Macpherson
sucking black man a species of SCOTCH
sweetmeat] in the midst O. schools?
'Tammas, your handwriting is abomina-
ton; Alexander, set him copy your
sell, to show him how a lad should
write These were the cries ringing
forever in my ears. What wonder if |
grew to look on Sandie as a superior be-
ing-to be gazed at with admiration
and envy, to be initiated with awe and
fear? .-.t.
1T was just the same story when we
went to college.
"We met there on our former footing;
that is to say, he distinguished himself
as usual, while | watched him from a
respectful distance. Few words ever
passed between us, for we had never
been on speaking terms-either in OF
out of school. But the relationship be-
| tween us was clearly understood. Some
times as he passed me in the street, wear
ing grandly his red college gown and
his college hat, while l crept along with
my gown on my arm, he would give me
patronizing nod that was all. We be-
gan Greek and moral philosophy under
the same professors. 1t was the old
story. He was the pet pupil of both.
He drank in learning like his mothers
milk. From the first Greek to the
second and third followed him labor
iously-as a clumsy fedgling follows
the fight of some splendid eagle, whom
it seeks to emulate in vain.
"After we left college | lost sight of
him for some years. Ibelieve he might
have received a bursary and gone
to Oxford, but his father, proud
as he was of his attachments, did
not want to spoil him for trade, and
withdrew him before he had completed
his course. | myself took to pupil
teaching, having not yet decided to try
my fortune in literature.
''But one day. fired by sudden en-
thusiasm, l wrote a long letter to the
Glasgow Herald on some question of the
day. 1t was printed next morning in
all the glory of large type and signed
Thomas Carlyle.' 1t was the pro1dest
day of my life, but, alas! it was destined
to be overloaded. Towards afternoon
| entered a coffee-shop and saw in the
compartment next to me, his head buried
in the paper, human figure. The
paper was the Herald, open at the page
containing my letter. sat blushing
with all the pride of fresh-blown author
ship. Presently the face looked up, and
| saw to my surprise my old school
fellow, Sandie Macpherson. Our eyes
met but his stony orbs gave no sign of
recognition. Then he turned to the
paper again and smiled! Yes, he was
reading my letter. 1t might astonish
the public but it could not impose upon
him. There were Latin and Greek
quotations in it and fragments of moral
philosophy; how ashamed felt of them
as | saw them come under his baleful
eye! He smiled again, placed down the
paper, paid his reckoning and walked
out of the shop without word. | went
home miserable man. might put on
grand airs before the public, but one
man knew my measure, and that man
was Sandie Macpherson. '.
cit was no use arguing with myself
that the man was an idiot; that although
he was glib at uptaking what was taught
him, he had neither talent nor originality
The memory of those early days haunted
me like a shadow. 30.
81 am not going to weary you-and
myself-with history of my literary
struggles till | conquered the book
faster, the magazine editor and the pub
Usher, and became a recognized pro-
ducer of the popular literary article.
Years passed away. In the course of
years | emgrated to London on the
invitation of John Mill, the philosopher
Then i published my first book, and, as
have told you. it was failure. re-
trieved myself by my second, which was
about half as good and not near so
earnest as the first. / still had Glasgow
and Sandie Macpherson in my mind
when | failed OF succeeded, but in course
of time the impression grew DINNER and
DINNER. 1t was one fine day that
John Mill returning from the North,
where he had been lecturing on some
political subject, spoke to me as follows:
''By the way, Carlyle, 1 met an old
schoolfellow of yours in Glasgow
Cay, indeedP' said, feeling the
blood mount to my face in moment.
ga man named Macpherson, small
tradesman, and member of the local
club which took me down. A prosy
fellow, and very sarcastic. He amused
me very much with his dry "reminiscences
of your school-days and seemed greatly
astonished that you had made any mark
in the world.
II forced a laugh, but felt hot and
cold all over
DO you remember him?' proceeded
Mill. He remembers yOu wonderfully.'
g 4 am not sure returned with
carelessness. Il believe there was a lad
of that name in the class with me, but
I've almost forgotten him, LISTS a
lone time apo