It was a girl who brought about my dismissal. I do not mean that she
was in any way to blame, but she was the indirect cause of my leaving
the Academy. It was a piece of fool's fortune, and I had not even the
knowledge that I cared in the least for the girl to console me. She
was only one of the several "piazza girls," as we called certain ones
of those who were staying at Cranston's, with whom I had danced, to
whom I had made pretty speeches, and had given the bell button that
was sewn just over my heart. She certainly was not the best of them,
for I can see now that she was vain and shallow, with a pert boldness,
which I mistook for vivacity and wit. Three years ago, at the age of
twenty, my knowledge of women was so complete that I divided them into
six classes, and as soon as I met a new one I placed her in one of
these classes and created her according to the line of campaign I had
laid down as proper for that class. Now, at twenty-three, I believe
that there are as many different kinds of women as there are women,
but that all kinds are good. Some women are better than others, but
all are good, and all are different. This particular one unknowingly
did me a great harm, but others have given me so much that is for
good, that the balance side is in their favor. If a man is going to
make a fool of himself, I personally would rather see him do it on
account of a woman than for any other cause. For centuries Antony has
been held up to the scorn of the world because he deserted his troops
and his fleet, and sacrificed the Roman Empire for the sake of
Cleopatra. Of course, that is the one thing a man cannot do, desert
his men and betray his flag; but, if he is going to make a bad break
in life, I rather like his doing it for the love of a woman. And,
after all, it is rather fine to have for once felt something in you so
great that you placed it higher than the Roman Empire.