cavalry trooper, was an accomplishment which he never mastered. If it
be added that his shyness never thawed, that he was habitually
silent, it is hardly surprising to find that he had few intimates at
the Academy. Caring nothing for the opinion of others, and tolerant
of association rather than seeking it, his self-contained nature
asked neither sympathy nor affection. His studious habits never left
him. His only recreation was a rapid walk in the intervals of the
classes. His whole thoughts and his whole energy were centred on
doing his duty, and passing into the army with all the credit he
could possibly attain. Although he was thoroughly happy at West
Point, life to him, even at that early age, was a serious business,
and most seriously he set about it.

Still, unsociable and irresponsive as he was, there were those in
whose company he found pleasure, cadets who had studied subjects not
included in the West Point course, and from whom there was something
to be learned. It was an unwritten law of the Academy that those of
the senior year should not make companions of their juniors. But
Jackson paid no heed to the traditionary code of etiquette. His
acquaintances were chosen regardless of standing, as often from the
class below him as his own; and in yet another fashion his strength
of character was displayed. Towards those who were guilty of
dishonourable conduct he was merciless almost to vindictiveness. He
had his own code of right and wrong, and from one who infringed it he
would accept neither apology nor excuse. His musket, which was always
scrupulously clean, was one day replaced by another in most slovenly
order. He called the attention of his captain to his loss, and
described the private mark by which it was to be identified. That
evening, at the inspection of arms, it was found in the hands of
another cadet, who, when taxed with his offence, endeavoured to