Mysterious Presence! linger yet awhile, Since well I know thou ne'er wilt come again, Breathe fresher still!-high hopes, triumphing, burn Ah! am I wandering! do I idly dream! For now, methought thou spakest in mine car Pass on! pass on! thou may'st no longer stay, On! on! and loiter not-Lo! thou art free! A Recipe for making College Reputations. It is natural for "gentlemen who have recently entered College," to devote some thought to the best method of securing a prominent position in their class. It is n't at all agreeable to be sneaking along through four years at the rear end of all respectability, and liable, like the tail of a snake or the snapper of a whip, to be twitched about till one is not only sure he has no character left, but is doubtful if he ever had any. Like most other gentlemen of the class above mentioned, I recollect to have devoted some anxious hours to the consideration of the matter before I had trudged many times back and forth between South-Middle and Atheneum. I remember one evening in particular, when (it was a Wednesday, but I was too blue to attend Society) I came to the resolution of settling the matter for future action. I thought and thought, revolving one scheme after another, brought to mind all the good advice of all the good Alumni in my native town--digested, arranged, and decided upon at least a dozen independent and irreconcilable courses of management; and so the time slipped away till near midnight. But as there was but a half-lesson for the next morning, and this matter was bound to be settled that night, I sat bolt up heroically in my chair, cast off contemptuously all thoughts of bed, and meditated as abstractedly as Sir Isaac himself, when he sat three hours half dressed on the side of his bedstead, excogitating the theory of-I've forgotten what. But it is hardly necessary to say, that, before long, the tumultuous struggling of great thoughts, or something else, made my head sway backwards and forwards, tolling out a grunt at every nod, like the College-bell tolling for Chapel. Then there followed a queer sensation of drowsy ideas-then I saw the shadows of what few notions I had flitting noiselessly out of the mind's chambers till all was empty, and never an echo remained of the fierce conflict of schemes, and plans, and contrivances which had raged within. I was asleep. Still, however, I continued sitting in my chair. I did n't fly, as many dreamers do, to Kamtschatka, nor to the Moon, but quietly rested in that same old room on the first floor of South-Middle. Suddenly I perceived seated by my side, a rather gaunt, meagre figure, with a slightly sinister expression about the mouth and eyes; but altogether an arch knowing look, which at once drew my attention. How he came in (I had locked the door to exclude all visitors) I did n't care to inquire, nor was I in the least surprised at his presence. Marvels are never marvels to a dreamer, as the world knows. It soon appeared that he was preparing to speak, and I kept quiet, as you must now, dear reader, for the sake of hearing what he had to say. I perceive, my friend, that you are troubled about the best way of securing a College Reputation. I spend a good deal of my time about College, as indeed I have for this near a century and a half, and make it my business to give my advice on these matters to gentlemen in your position. So if you 've no objections I'll proceed in a familiar way to furnish a few hints, which, to my knowledge, have raised some cunning fellows to the highest notch in the general opinion. I take it for granted that you will act like a man of spirit, unwilling to pursue the same dull dog-trot all the way through College, but determined rather to rise and not be prudish about any little extraordinary expedients which may subserve your end. I shall not confine myself to any arrangement, but throw out at random such hints as my long experience suggests. The point of first importance, of course, is the securing a reputation for general talent. You wont have much time this year to spend in the Society, and so you must be taught how to manage the daily recitations. Be careful then, that nobody ever detects you at study in your room. It has a dull plodding air, and never fails to ruin a man's name for genius. Always when at study have a novel on the table, and if anybody raps, shove your Euclid or Livy one side and seize the novel before you sing out "come in." If you can contrive to get your legs upon the table and a cigar in your mouth before he comes in, so much the better. You may make an exception, however, of the ten minutes, (never more than that,) before recitation, when it is respectable to be found at work, but do n't fail to say you 've "been out taking a walk," or "have had somebody in, and have n't looked at the lesson before." There's some danger, however, that you may be caught if you work too much in the day time. You'd better, therefore, (for I see you room alone, which is indispensable to a "fellow of talent,") do most of your study at night. For this purpose have a light with a close shade, throwing little or no light about your room. Close the windows, (with blankets if necessary,) and stop the keyhole. up If anybody should see any gleam of light and rally you next morning, tell him you was sick as death that night, owing to a "bender" if he is an easy fellow; if he is sober himself, tell him you fell asleep in your chair while writing to your mother. Always insist upon it when you enter the division-room that you have 'nt had but five minutes to look at the lesson, and keep constantly at work while there on the lesson; otherwise you might be suspected of having previously prepared it. Never skin a lesson which it requires any ability to learn. If the lesson is hard, get it carefully over night, and then proceed in the division-room as I have advised. If it's an easy one and you can bear the risk, just run into somebody's room a moment before recitation and get it read. There are many other similar expedients which your own subsequent experience will suggest. On some accounts it would be well to drink pretty freely, but there are some fellows in your class so absurdly blue, (I 'm sorry there are so many,) that this will hardly answer. The best course is, therefore, to take a little occasionally, but always less than anybody else in the company. You can thus come to the windward of both sortsof the free-and-easy fellows, because you always take a glass and never preach of the blues, because you attend your friends to such places with the utmost reluctance, and for the sole purpose of exerting a restraining influence. You must talk largely, however, to any boon acquaintances you may continue to get among the upper classes, and give them to understand that there is not a Senior in College who has had more practical experience in these matters than you have. I believe you have 'nt yet learned to smoke. I need not tell you that you must commence at once, for this little accomplishment is absolutely indispensable to a man of any talent. It may sicken you slightly at first; but persevere, you'll overcome that before long, and smoking is a convenient introduction to several other agreeable practices, which go to make up the tout ensemble of a smart fellow. In Chapel, you will of course sleep through most of the service. If you should n't happen to be sleepy, nevertheless put down your head. On this score you must tell one sort of fellows you'd rather be in the other "Temple" any time; and the other sort, that you would gladly listen to the sermon, but find it, you are sorry to say, impossible, you are always so sleepy. I would n't carry a novel into Chapel to read-not out of any respect for some people's old womanish twaddle about the sacredness of the place-but because some of the blues might see you, and so (though they are prodigiously "charitable" in their phrase, or "gullable" in mine) they might not properly digest the story about your reluctance to sleep during service. I may say here that you must never be supposed capable of getting out of bed before the last bell tuins over. If you find it necessary to rise earlier, and get a lesson, always contrive to run in hastily to prayers, half dressed, and just before the monitor rises. Carry in your book and study during prayers occasionally; this sustains the reputation of having just got up, and it 's one of those little peccadilloes which nobody will bear hard upon. Your being seen with free-and-easy fellows may bring you into occasional inconvenience; you may be sometimes brought up before the Faculty. On this account it may be well to have your eye on some half a dozen poor scapegraces who have more knavery than wit, and have become unsavory with the College Officers. If you are hardpressed, you may select one of these for the victim, and with great apparent reluctance, lisp out one or two syllables of his name. Don't charge him with any thing definite, for that might involve you in trouble; but throw out one or two general suspicions. When, however, you get out, give the fellows to understand that the Faculty did n't get any satisfaction out of you, and that they found there was one man in the class who would n't sacrifice his rights on the threat of an expulsion. Always have about you three or four weak fellows whom you can easily manage, and who will consider you the very paragon of all excellence. You might select some one of these to be victimized in the Faculty meeting. He wont suspect you, and if he gets rusticated, or expelled, nobody will feel interested enough to make any particular inquiries. Have as many fellows thus under your patronage as you can control, for a few will only cause envy on the part of others, and wont help you very efficiently. I would let these fellows run all lengths they choose, for their worthlessness will help your own reputation by the contrast; and beside, when they 've lost all caste, you can easily shift them off, if necessary, for a new set of victims. Before long you must begin to run for the First Presidency. Your speeches must all be written out previously but that is so stale an expedient as to excite suspicion, unless well managed. Speak generally on questions which have been debated in your own society or elsewhere, and write out more than you intend to speak. Whenever you introduce an objection, do n't say in your written speech," it may be urged," but, "the gentleman last up took occasion to urge." Then having your speech well primed, jump up immediately after some opponent who has introduced nearly all the objections on your list. Say you "had not the least idea of speaking, but the positions assumed by the last speaker suggest some thoughts which I present upon the spur of the moment." Introduce here and there some really extempore remark, and appear to be at a loss for words. Various schemes may be employed to avoid the imputation of being ever out of funds. If you do n't find it convenient to pay your wash bill, employ some poor, out-of-the-way creature whom nobody knows, and so of your shoemaker and tailor. Run on tick as extensively as you can with safety, and if any tradesman ventures to ask for his dues, give him to understand you'll ruin his reputation in college if he do n't keep quiet. It would be well to calculate on an account of some two or three hundred by the time Commencement comes. You can easily slip out of town and the whole matter will blow over. In securing the name of a first-rate writer you should have some friend at a little distance from college on whom you can rely for an occasional dispute, which will raise your reputation. When you read any of these, take care to have it understood that you have really exerted yourself. But in any ordinary case when you must rely on your own powers and could accomplish much even by exertion, do the best you possibly can, and then take means to be found writing just before the Division goes in to read. Nobody must suspect you of employing more than an hour and a half on these occasions. If you have occasion to filch anything from other writers, take some old book which nobody reads and put the quotation marks and in the words of another' into your manuscript: but neglect to read the acknowledgment. The reason of this you will perceive at once. ni ?" 66 66 "Of The Stranger here paused awhile and I seized the opportunity to interpose a question. "Did you ever know anybody to follow out your plan?" O, yes." "And how have they enjoyed life as AlumTolerably well: but why trouble your head about that? Let the future take care of itself." "So you say all who have followed the course you advise have done well." "Yes, mostly, but—” "But what?" "No matter; I was thinking for a moment of—" what? tell me all, or your advice shall go to the winds." “Oh, 't was a small matter. One poor fellow who had faithfully followed my advice, would have done finely, if he had n't caught the horrors towards the close of Senior Years, because some of his friends did n't perfectly trust him. When he left College I had some hope of him, but somehow he did n't seem to take with the world, and, to be frank with you, he became a straggling, shiftless fellow, and went about groaning out some sentimental ditty or other of Coleridge's." "What was that?" The Stranger with evident reluctance hurried it over as rapidly as possible and with a lively, jocose air, "Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea, And never a saint takes pity on My soul in agony." The Stranger was just proceeding to say that this case was an exception, and should not disturb me, when the Prayer Bell rang and I awoke. |