y that he had "no
genius for seeming." But if he carried his conscientiousness to
extremes, if he laid down stringent rules for his own governance, he
neither set himself up for a model nor did he attempt to force his
convictions upon others. He was always tolerant; he knew his own
faults, and his own temptations, and if he could say nothing good of
a man he would not speak of him at all. But he was by no means
disposed to overlook conduct of which he disapproved, and undue
leniency was a weakness to which he never yielded. If he once lost
confidence or discovered deception on the part of one he trusted, he
withdrew himself as far as possible from any further dealings with
him; and whether with the cadets, or with his brother-officers, if an
offence had been committed of which he was called upon to take
notice, he was absolutely inflexible. Punishment or report inevitably
followed. No excuses, no personal feelings, no appeals to the
suffering which might be brought upon the innocent, were permitted to
interfere with the execution of his duty.

Such were the chief characteristics of the great Confederate as he
appeared to the little world of Lexington. The tall figure, clad in
the blue uniform of the United States army, always scrupulously neat,
striding to and from the Institute, or standing in the centre of the
parade-ground, while the cadet battalion wheeled and deployed at his
command, was familiar to the whole community. But Jackson's heart was
not worn on his sleeve. Shy and silent as he was, the knowledge that
even his closest acquaintances had of him was hardly more than
superficial. A man who was always chary of expressing his opinions,
unless they were asked for, who declined argument, and used as few
words as possible, attracted but little notice. A few recognised his
clear good sense; the majority considered that if he said little it
was because he had nothing worth saying. Because he went his own way
and lived by his own rules he was considered eccentric; because he
was sometimes absent-minded, and apt to become absorbed in his own
thoughts, he was set down as unpractical; his literal accuracy of
statement was construed as the mark of a narrow intellect, and his
exceeding modesty served to keep him in the background.

At the Institute, despite his reputation for courage, he was no
favourite even with the cadets. He was hardly in sympathy with them.
His temper was always equable. Whatever he may have felt h