the shortest way of reaching it, so, in his explanations to his stumbling class, he could only repeat the process by which he himself had solved the problem at issue.  We may well believe that his self-reliant nature, trained to intense application, overlooked the fact that others, weaker and less gifted, could not surmount unaided the obstacles which only aroused his own masterful instincts.  Nevertheless, his conscientious industry was not entirely thrown away.  To the brighter intellects in his class he communicated accurate scholarship; and although the majority lagged far behind, the thoroughness of his mental drill was most useful, to himself perhaps even more than to the cadets.

1854 to 1857.

The death of his first wife, daughter of the reverend Dr. Junkin, President of Washington College, after they had been married but fourteen months, the solution of his religious difficulties, and his reception into the Presbyterian Church; a five months’ tour in Europe, through Scotland, England, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy; his marriage to Miss Morrison, daughter of a North Carolina clergyman:  such were the chief landmarks of his life at Lexington.  Ten years, with their burden of joy and sorrow, passed away, of intense interest to the individual, but to the world a story dull and commonplace.  Jackson was by no means a man of mark in Rockbridge county.  Although his early shyness had somewhat worn off, he was still as reserved as he had been at West Point.  His confidence was rarely given outside his own home.  Intimates he had few, either at the Institute or elsewhere.  Still he was not in the least unsociable, and there were many houses where he was always welcome.  The academic atmosphere of Lexington did not preclude a certain amount of gaiety.  The presence of Washington College and the Military Institute drew together a large number of families during the summer, and fair visitors thronged the leafy avenues of the little town.  During these pleasant months the officers and cadets, as became their cloth, were always well to the fore.  Recreation was the order of the day, and a round of entertainments enlivened the “Commencements.”  Major Jackson attended these gatherings with unfailing regularity, but soon after his arrival he drew the line at dancing, and musical parties became the limit of his dissipation.  He was anything but a convivial companion.  He never smoked, he was a strict teetotaller, and he never touched a card.  His diet, for reasons of health, was of a most sparing kind; nothing could tempt him to partake of food between his regular hours, and for many years he abstained from both tea and coffee.  In those peaceful times, moreover, there was nothing either commanding or captivating about the Professor of Artillery.  His little romance in Mexico had given him no taste for trivial pleasures; and his somewhat formal manner was not redeemed by any special charm of feature.  The brow and jaw were undoubtedly powerful; but the eyes were gentle,