to extremes, had long been a feature of West Point life. Jackson,
with the rusticity of the backwoods apparent at every turn, promised
the highest sport. And here it may be written, once for all, that
however nearly in point of character the intended victim reached the
heroic standard, his outward graces were few. His features were well
cut, his forehead high, his mouth small and firm, and his complexion
fresh. Yet the ensemble was not striking, nor was it redeemed by
grave eyes and a heavy jaw, a strong but angular frame, a certain
awkwardness of movement, and large hands and feet. His would-be
tormentors, however, soon found they had mistaken their man. The
homespun jacket covered a natural shrewdness which had been sharpened
by responsibility. The readiness of resource which had characterised
the whilom constable was more than a match for their most ingenious
schemes; and baffled by a temper which they were powerless to
disturb, their attempts at persecution, apparently more productive of
amusement to their victim than to themselves, were soon abandoned.

Rough as was the life of the Virginia border, it had done something
to fit this unpromising recruit for the give and take of his new
existence. Culture might be lacking in the distant West, but the air
men breathed was at least the blessed breath of independence. Each
was what he made himself. A man's standing depended on his success in
life, and success was within the reach of all. There, like his
neighbours, Jackson had learned to take his own part; like them he
acknowledged no superiority save that of actual merit, and believing
that the richest prize might be won by energy and perseverance,
without diffidence or misgiving he faced his future. He knew nothing
of the life of the great nation of which he was so insignificant an
atom, of the duties of the army, of the manners of its officers. He
knew only that even as regards education he had an uphill task before