sm in anything.
Here is testimony to that mental indolence, or torpor, which pervaded his nature; and he gives more himself.
I rarely read over a lesson the second time. . . . I read all of Bulwer's, . . . Cooper's, Marryat's, Scott's, Washington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others that I do not now remember.
His letters home show an appreciation of natural scenery, and this he seems always to have had.
During his furlough at home after two years at the Academy it is narrated by Richardson that, in accordance with an agreement between himself and classmates to abstain from liquor for a year, he steadily refused to drink with his old friends.
The object of the cadets was to strengthen, by their example, one of their number who was falling into bad habits.
It has never been narrated that C. F. Smith, the commandant of cadets, sent for the boy once when he was in danger of being dismissed, and told him that he was capable of better things.
The words that passed on this occas
nd both at different times visited Grant, and overcame him. It has been plainly written, but is seldom remembered, that his head in these days was singularly light: a strange thing in such a temperament, but well authenticated.
Very little was too much for him. Never to touch liquor was his only safety.
How he left the army is conflictingly told.
He could scarcely be expected to explain it himself.
It is only the Franklins and the Rousseaus who can be as impersonally candid as that.
Richardson's version closely tallies with what is still reported on the coast.
Grant's commandant asked for his resignation, which was not to be forwarded to Washington, but held in escrow, so to speak, that he might pull himself together.
He could not, and the plain truth is that he drank himself out of the army.
He departed into an era that was to be one of deepening gloom, remarking, Whoever hears of me in ten years will hear of a well-to-do old Missouri farmer.
Expecting money at San Franci
reached Washburne through the newspapers; and he, his faith in Grant already great, but not yet impregnable as it soon became, wrote to Rawlins.
Rawlins answered, explaining that the surgeon had prescribed whiskey for an attack of ague, and added that, much as he loved Grant, he loved his country more, and if at any time, from any cause, he should see his chief unfit for the position he occupied, he should deem it his duty to report the fact at once.
Before mailing the letter, continues Richardson, he handed it to Grant.
The general, who had suffered keenly from these reports, read it with much feeling, and said emphatically: Yes, that's right,--exactly right.
Send it by all means.
It is a creditable story to every one except Prentiss and the contractors; and it reveals Rawlins in a bright light.
No wonder Grant let him swear whenever he wanted.
For a little while Grant was ordered about hither and thither in Missouri; but there is nothing decisive to record until, soon after
to enumerate many documents,--Sumner's speeches, for example,--essential though they be to the student.
I. Grant and his campaigns.
By Henry Coppee.
(New York, 1866: Charles B. Richardson.) By far the best of the early military biographies.
With General Sheridan in Lee's last campaign.
By a staff officer [F. C. Newhall]. (Philadelphia, 1866: J. B. Lippincott Company.) The most vivid story of the cavalry battles yet told.
III.* personal history of Ulysses S. Grant.
By Albert D. Richardson.
（Hartford, Conn., 1868: American Publishing Company.) Full of anecdote and interest.
On the whole, better than either its contemporaries or its followers.
Military history of Ulysses S. Grant.
By Adam Badeau.
(New York, 1868-81: D. Appleton & Co.) A pompous third-rate production, and untrustworthy.
V. The Virginia campaign of ‘64 and ‘65.
By Andrew A. Humphreys.
(New York, 1883: Charles Scribner's Sons.) The admirable temper and ability of this book place it far abov<