still the fashion, was remarkable, and his sympathy with the oppressed was as deep as his loyalty to Virginia.  He was an ardent lover of nature.  The autumnal glories of the forest, the songs of the birds, the splendours of the sunset, were sources of unfailing pleasure.  More than all, the strength of his imagination carried him further than the confines of the material world, and he saw with unclouded vision the radiant heights that lie beyond.

Jackson, then, was something more than a man of virile temperament; he was gifted with other qualities than energy, determination, and common sense.  He was not witty.  He had no talent for repartee, and the most industrious collector of anecdotes will find few good things attributed to him.  But he possessed a kindly humour which found vent in playful expressions of endearment, or in practical jokes of the most innocent description; and if these outbursts of high spirits were confined to the precincts of his own home, they proved at least that neither by temperament nor principle was he inclined to look upon the darker side.  His eye for a ludicrous situation was very quick, and a joke which told against himself always caused him the most intense amusement.  It is impossible to read the letters which Mrs. Jackson has published and to entertain the belief that his temper was ever in the least degree morose.  To use her own words, “they are the overflow of a heart full of tenderness;” it is true that they seldom omit some reference to that higher life which both husband and wife were striving hand in hand to lead, but they are instinct from first to last with the serene happiness of a contented mind.

Even more marked than his habitual cheerfulness was his almost feminine sympathy with the poor and feeble.  His servants, as was the universal rule in Virginia, were his slaves; but his relations with his black dependents were of almost a paternal character, and his kindness was repaid by that childlike devotion peculiar to the negro race.  More than one of these servants—­so great was his reputation for kindness—­had begged him to buy them from their former owners.  Their interests were his special care; in sickness they received all the attention and comfort that the house afforded; to his favourite virtues, politeness and punctuality, they were trained by their master himself, and their moral education was a task he cheerfully undertook.  “There was one little servant in the family,” says Mrs. Jackson, “whom my husband took under his sheltering roof at the solicitations of an aged lady; to whom the child became a care after having been left an orphan.  She was not bright, but he persevered in drilling her into memorising a child’s catechism, and it was a most amusing picture to see her standing before him with fixed attention, as if she were straining every nerve, and reciting her answers with the drop of a curtsey at each word.  She had not been taught to do this, but it was such an effort for her to learn that she assumed the motion involuntarily.”