e army, and was buried at
West Point by the side of our first-born son, who had died in 1868,
soon after I became Secretary of War.

In the summer of 1860 came the end of my term of duty at West Point.
My taste for service in the line of the army, if I ever had any,
was gone; and all hope of promotion, if I ever had any, was still
further away. I had been for more than four years about nineteenth
first lieutenant in my regiment, without rising a single file. I
was a man of family, and had already become quite bald "in the
service of my country." There was no captaincy in sight for me
during the ordinary lifetime of man, so I accepted the professorship
of physics in Washington University, St. Louis, Missouri. But Mr.
Jefferson Davis, an intimate friend of my father-in-law, gave me
a timely hint that promotion might be better in a year or two; and
his bitterest personal enemy, General Scott, gave me a highly
flattering indorsement which secured leave of absence for a year.
Thus I retained my commission.

PROFESSOR OF PHYSICS IN WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY

As the period of the Civil War approached a very large part of my
time was occupied in reading and studying, as coolly as possible,
every phase of the momentous questions which I had been warned must
probably be submitted to the decision of war. Hence, when the
crisis came I was not unprepared to decide for myself, without
prejudice or passion, where the path of duty lay, yet not without
some feeling of indulgence toward my brother officers of the army
who, as I believed, were led by the influence of others so far
astray. I took an early occasion to inform General Scott of my
readiness to relinquish my leave of absence and return to duty
whenever my services might be required, and I had the high honor
of not being requested to renew my oath of allegiance.

My life in St. Louis during the eight months next preceding the
Civil War was of great benefit to me in the delicate and responsible
duties which so soon devolved upon me. My connection with Washington
University brought me into close relations with many of the most
patriotic, enlightened, and, above all, unselfish citizens of
Missouri. Some of them were of the Southern school of politics,
but the large majority were earnest Union men, though holding the
various shades of opinion then common on the question of slavery.
By long and intimate intercourse, in the joint prosecution of t