EARLY LIFE AND HABITS.
Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism of twenty-five years ago.--The "little
deacon."--First days at school.--Choosing a wife.--A youthful
gallant.--A close scholar but a wild lad.--A mother's
influence.--Ward Glazier a Grahamite.--Young Willard's practical
jokes.--Anecdote of Crystal Spring.--"That is something like
water."
It must not be supposed that young Willard's home was gloomy and
joyless, because it was presided over by a religious woman. The
Presbyterians of that day and that race were by no means a lugubrious
people. They did not necessarily view their lives as a mere vale of
tears, nor did they think the "night side of nature" the most sacred
one. The Rev. Mr. Morrison, one of their divines, tells us that "the
thoughtless, the grave, the old and the young, alike enjoyed every
species of wit," and though they were "thoughtful, serious men, yet they
never lost an occasion that might promise sport," and he very
pertinently asks, "what other race ever equaled them in getting up
corn-huskings, log-rollings and quiltings?--and what hosts of queer
stories are connected with them!" Fond of fun, there was a grotesque
humor about them, which in its way has, perhaps, never been equaled.
"It was the sternness of the Scotch Covenanter softened by a century's
residence abroad, amid persecution and trial, united to the comic humor
and pathos of the Irish, and then grown wild in the woods among their
own New England mountains."
[Illustration: The First Battle.]
Such was the Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism of that period.
Other cheerful influences were also at work in the two villages that
comprised the town of Fowler. The only house of worship in the town
proper was a Universalist church, and the people were compelled for the
most part, notwithstanding their various creeds, to worship in a common
temple where the asperities of sectarian difference had no existence.
Ward Glazier, at that time, was an adherent of Universalism, while his
wife held evangelical views. But he was ever ready to ride with his wife
and son to the church of her choice at Gouverneur, a distance of six
miles, and returning, chat with them pleasantly of the sermon, the
crops, the markets and the gossip of the town.
In truth, young Willard's early home was a good and pleasant one, and
having learned, under his mother's careful training, to read exceedingly
well, for a boy of his age, by the time he reached his fourth year he
became noted for his inquiring disposition, his quiet manner, and a
quaint habit of making some practical application of the "wise saws"
with which his mother had stored his juvenile mind.
The result was that up to this period of his existence he was an
old-fashioned little fellow, and somehow had acquired the sobriquet of
the "little deacon."
At about five years of age, however, a change took place in the boy.
The bird that flutters and twitters in the parent nest is a very
different thing from the emancipated fledgeling, feeling its newly
acquired power of flight, and soaring far up and out into the woods and
over the fields; and the boy whose experience of life is confined to
the household of his parents, is not less different from the lad who has
gone beyond it into the bustle and turmoil of that epitomized world,--a
public school.
Little Willard, like other youths, was thrown into this new sphere of
action suddenly, and without any adequate idea of what was there
expected of him. The first day passed as all first days at school pass,
not in study, but in looking on and becoming accustomed to the
surroundings, himself in turn being the subject of scrutiny by his
school-mates, as the "new boy." The day did not end, however, without
its incident.
Young Willard as soon as he had made his bow to his new teacher, was
placed upon a bench in close proximity to a pretty little girl of about
his own age. Instead of wasting his time therefore, by studying the less
attractive lineaments of his male companions, he made a careful
comparison between this young lady and the other girls present, the
result of which was that the moment he was permitted to go out during
the customary recess, he bounded off home at the top of his speed, and
with all the exuberance natural to his years announced to his astonished
mother, "Mother! mother! I've picked out my wife!"
Susceptibility to the influence of beauty seems, at this period of
Willard's life, to have been one of his prominent characteristics, for
in addition to exhibiting itself in the manner described, upon another
occasion not long afterwards it broke out as follows:
Every school-boy is aware that there is nothing so humiliating to a male
pupil at a public school as to be called a "girl-boy." Hence, for
trivial offences a boy is often punished by being sandwiched between two
girls, and compelled to remain there until the offence committed has
been sufficiently atoned for. Now young Willard was frequently guilty of
talking during study hours, and his teacher determined to try this
species of punishment upon him with a view of correcting the offensive
habit. As soon, therefore, as he caught him indulging in the prohibited
practice, he was ordered to take his place between two very young ladies
of six and eight summers respectively. To the amazement of his teacher,
young Willard sustained the infliction smilingly, and believing that
this was an indication that the culprit recognized the justice of the
punishment and was practising a commendable patience, he very soon
called him up to his own desk, reasoned with him upon the necessity of
observing the rules of school, and released him with an admonition to be
careful for the future, as a repetition of his offence would certainly
be followed by a repetition of the punishment.
Willard said nothing, but went to his desk, and for the space of five
minutes, perhaps, there was complete silence in the school-room. Then
Mr. ---- was startled to hear a distinct, clear, unmistakable whisper
break in upon his meditations, and became as suddenly struck with the
conviction that it was uttered by Master Willard Glazier.
The countenance of the pedagogue grew dark and stern. Fire shot from his
usually calm eyes, and his expression betokened the fact that this
flagrant act of disobedience was more than he could bear. Indignation
however soon gave place to astonishment, for the little fellow, without
waiting for a single word from his teacher's lips, quietly arose to his
feet, and with the placid expression of an individual performing a
meritorious action, marched across the school-room and deliberately
seated himself in the place he had before occupied between the two
little girls.
"Willard Glazier!" thundered the master, "come here, sir, immediately!"
The boy of course instantly obeyed.
"What do you mean, sir!" exclaimed the teacher, "how dare you conduct
yourself in this disgraceful manner, sir!"
Young Willard looked astonished.
"Why, Mr. ----," said he, "didn't you say that if I whispered to Myron
Sprague again, I should go back and sit between Lizzie and Annie?"
"Yes, sir, I did, and how dare you disobey me in this way?"
"Why, sir," said Willard, "I whispered again to him, because,
sir,--because--I like to sit there, sir."
A light dawned upon the mind of the master, and thereafter he adopted a
less attractive mode of punishing Willard's offences. To some of my
readers such incidents may seem too trivial for record, and no doubt
such days as these _are_ foolish days, but are they not in our memories,
among our very happiest too? As David Copperfield said of such, so say
we, that "of all my time that Time has in his grip, there's none at
which I smile so much, or think of half so kindly."
The usual surroundings of a public school made a great change in the
existence of Willard Glazier, and it is necessary to note its influence,
for in writing the life of a man in its private as well as its public
relations, the chief point to be considered is that which men call
_character_, and how it was formed and fashioned.
If the truth must be told, the "little deacon" had not been a month in
attendance at school before he was up to every imaginable species of
mischief that the fertile brain of a school-boy could conceive--provided
its execution did not involve unequivocal untruth or palpable
dishonesty.
No human being, save one, was exempt from his practical jokes. That one
was his mother. In his wildest moods, a glance of reproach from her
would check him. His father, however, enjoyed no such immunity, and in a
kindly way, he delighted in tormenting the good man whenever the
opportunity offered.
For instance, that worthy gentleman, among other idiosyncracies, was a
follower of the so-called Dr. Sylvester Graham, an ex-Presbyterian
clergyman who, in 1832, inaugurated, by a familiar course of lectures, a
new system of dietetics.
The Grahamites, as they were called, held that health is the necessary
result of obeying certain physical laws, and disease the equally certain
result of disobeying them; that all stimulants are pernicious to the
human body, and should be rejected, except in those rare cases where it
becomes necessary to administer one known poison as an antidote to
another equally deadly, in order to neutralize its effects or expel it
from the system. Dr. Graham condemned the use of tea, coffee and spices,
tobacco, opium, and not only alcoholic drinks but even beer and cider,
declaring that all were equally poisonous, and that they only differed
in the degree in which their evil qualities were concentrated or
expanded.
Ward Glazier held this theory to be the result of a profound philosophy,
and considered the observance of the course of diet he prescribed to be
the only way in which a human being could secure for himself a sound
mind in a sound body. In medicine, Mr. Glazier was an equally rigid
hydropathist. He held that the system of water cure was the only
rational system of healing. One of his individual fancies was to drink
only water obtained from a particular spring. This spring was
beautifully clear and cold, and was situated at the distance of about
sixty rods from the house. It was Willard's allotted duty each day to
fill a large pitcher from its crystal treasures for use at meals. In
order to do this, the brooklet being extremely shallow, and running over
masses of pebbles, he was compelled to kneel and dip it up with a
cup,--an operation requiring both time and patience. Now within a few
yards of this place flowed a small stream or creek considerably deeper
and of larger volume, fed by a number of rills, and as the boy had
conceived the impression that his father only fancied a distinction
where there was really no difference, between the waters of the rival
streams, it occurred to him that he might just as well plunge his
pitcher in the latter, fill it by a single effort, and thus save himself
what he especially disliked,--useless labor. This he did with the
following result:
Ward Glazier was just about sitting down to dinner as Willard entered,
and observing that his son came from the immediate vicinity of the
creek, poured out and tasted a little of the water with evident
dissatisfaction.
"Willard," said he, "you didn't get this from the spring; this is creek
water. Now go right back and get a pitcherful from the spring."
Off started Master Willard to do as he was bidden, but on his way, the
originator of all mischief suggested to his fertile brain the idea of
playing a trick upon his father; so instead of going to the spring, he
simply loitered for a few moments out of sight of such of the family as
might be at the windows,
"Under an elm whose antique roots peep out
Upon the brook, that brawls along the wood."
He then quietly sauntered back, with the identical pitcher of water with
which he had come forth.
"There," said he, emphatically, as if he had fulfilled his mission, at
the same time placing the pitcher near his father's plate upon the
table. The good man took it up, examined the contents with a critical
eye, poured out a glassful of the sparkling liquid and drained it to the
last drop.
"Ah," said he, with a sigh expressive of great satisfaction, "_that_ is
something like water! _that_ does a man good!"
This evidence of parental fallibility Master Willard enjoyed hugely, but
it was many years before he ventured to give his father an opportunity
to join in the laugh at his own expense, by telling him of the
occurrence.