The college served its purpose, in introducing him to the world of
knowledge; but that did not take long, and afterwards it was all in
his way. The mathematics were a discipline, and in them he rejoiced
as a strong man to run a race; and this was true also of the
sciences, and of history--the only trouble was that he would finish
the text-books in the first few weeks, and after that there was
nothing to do save to compose verses in class, and to make sketches
of the professors. But as for the "languages" and the "literatures"
they taught him--in the end Thyrsis came to forgive them, because he
saw that they did not know what languages and literatures were. On
this account he took to begging leave of absence on grounds of his
poverty; and then he would go home and spend his days and nights in
learning.

One could get so much for so little, in this wonderful world of
mind! For eight cents he picked up a paper volume of Emerson's
"Essays"; and in this shrewd and practical nobility was so much that
he was seeking in life! And then he stumbled upon a fifteen-cent
edition of "Sartor Resartus", and took that home and read it. It was
like the clash of trumpets and cymbals to him; it made his whole
being leap. Hour after hour he read, breathless, like a man
bewitched, the whole night through. He would cry aloud with delight,
or drop the book and pound his knee and laugh over the demoniac
power of it. The next day he began the "French Revolution"; and
after that, alas, he found there was no more--for Carlyle had turned
his back upon democracy, and so Thyrsis turned his back upon
Carlyle.

For this was one of the forces which had had to do with the shaping
of his thought. Beginning in the public-schools he had learned about