“I noticed upon his shelves a copy of Bryant’s translation of Homer. He complained that the book-seller had sent him an imperfect copy, there being one hundred and ninety lines at the beginning of the first volume omitted through the carelessness of the binder. He repeated some of the omitted lines, and spoke of them in terms of high critical eulogy. It was quite daylight before he allowed me to depart. “The General was very peculiar in the discipline of his children. One evening an agent for a Babcock Fire Extinguisher was exhibiting the machine on a pile of lighted tarred boxes, on the public square, in the presence of a large crowd, among them General Garfield and his little son Jim, who is a chip off the old block, as the saying is. A gentleman accidentally stepped on the boy’s foot. He did not yell, as most boys might have done under such a pressure, but savagely sprang at the gentleman and dealt him a blow with his fist somewhere in the region of the abdomen, about as high as he could reach. The father observed it, and immediately had the crowd open and ordered the fireman to turn the hose upon Jim, which was done, and the boy was extinguished in less than a minute. “When he was in Washington, and we wanted—as frequently happened—any public documents or any facts to aid us in our society debates, which were not accessible from any other source, all we had to do was to write to the General for them, and it was flattering to us how promptly he complied with these requests. “While apparently of the most amiable temper, he taught us the duty of self-defense, and the right to resist aggression. He was not by any means a non-combatant, and when aroused must have borne some resemblance to an enraged lion. I understand he entered the war as a soldier with extraordinary zeal, and the country knows with what gallantry he fought its battles. He was naturally a belligerent, but discipline, the habitual practice of self-command, and a strong religious sense, enabled him to keep this warlike disposition under perfect control. He was an excellent boxer and fencer, a good shot with both rifle and pistol, and took a lively interest in all manly exercises. He was a skillful croquet player, and enlivened the game with constant conversation, which made it a most agreeable pastime to the other players and lookers on.” Can biography anywhere present a more simple, manly nature? Is there a better sign of it than to be beloved by college boys?