tes his
mother--he was now eighteen--that he had definitely made up his mind to
enter the Methodist ministry. He had a close friend--Wilbur Fisk
Tillett--who cherished similar ambitions, and Page one day surprised
Tillett by suggesting that, at the approaching Methodist Conference,
they apply for licensing as "local preachers" for the next summer. His
friend dissuaded him, however, and henceforth Page concentrated on more
worldly studies. In many ways he was the life of the undergraduate body.
His desire for an immediate theological campaign was merely that passion
for doing things and for self-expression which were always conspicuous
traits. His intense ambition as a boy is still remembered in this sleepy
little village. He read every book in the sparse college library; he
talked to his college mates and his professors on every imaginable
subject; he led his associates in the miniature parliament--the Franklin
Debating Society--to which he belonged; he wrote prose and verse at an
astonishing rate; he explored the country for miles around, making
frequent pilgrimages to the birthplace of Henry Clay, which is the chief
historical glory of Ashland, and to that Hanover Court House which was
the scene of the oratorical triumph of Patrick Henry; he flirted with
the pretty girls in the village, and even had two half-serious love
affairs in rapid succession; he slept upon a hard mattress at night and
imbibed more than the usual allotment of Greek, Latin, and mathematics
in the daytime. One year he captured the Greek prize and the next the
Sutherlin medal for oratory. With a fellow classicist he entered into a
solemn compact to hold all their conversation, even on the most trivial
topics, in Latin, with heavy penalties for careless lapses into English.
Probably the linguistic result would have astonished Quintilian, but the
experiment at least had a certain influence in improving the young man's
Latinity. Another favourite dissipation was that of translating English
masterpieces into the ancient tongue; there still survives among Page's
early papers a copy of Bryant's "Waterfowl" done into Latin iambics. As
to Page's personal appearance, a designation coined by a fellow student
who afterward became a famous editor gives the suggestion of a portrait.
He called him one of the "seven slabs" of the college. And, as always,
the adjectives which his contemporaries chiefly use in describing Page
are "alert" and "positive."

[Illustrat