ip; nor was his heart in the Mexican War, when it came.
He pronounces it unholy, and he writes: The Southern Rebellion was largely the outgrowth of the Mexican War. Nations, like individuals, are punished for their transgressions.
This forty years retrospect is consistent with his letter after Cerro Gordo: You say you would like to hear more about the war . . . . Tell them I am heartily tired of the wars.
On the intellectual side, his letters read stark and bald as time-tables.
Mexico, Cortez, Montezuma, are nothing to him. But his constant love of nature leads him to remark and count the strange birds of the country; and he speaks of the beauty of the mountain sides covered with palms which toss to and fro in the wind like plumes in a helmet.
This poetical note rings so strangely in the midst of his even, mat. ter-of-fact words that one wonders, did he not hear some one else say it, and adopt it because he thought it good?
It was his habit to do this.
It is thus that many yea