ountry had been sundered; the ties of friendship and of
kindred had been broken; the bonds of college affection were weakened if
not destroyed. What an opportunity for inaugurating the healing process!
What an occasion for the display of magnanimity, of mollifying the pain
of humiliation, of throwing a veil of oblivion over the past, of watering
the perishing roots of fraternal affection and fostering the spirit of
genuine union! But no. The Southern alumnus may come, but he comes to be
humiliated still further. Can he join in the plaudits of those by whom he
has been humbled? You may applaud, but do not ask him to join in your
acclamations. He may be mourning the death of father, brother, yes, of
mother and sister, by the very hands of those you are glorifying. Do not
aggravate his sorrow by requiring him to join you in such a
demonstration.

"No, my dear cousin, it was in _bad taste_ to say the least of it, and it
was equally _impolitic_ to intercalate such a demonstration into the
usual and appropriate exercises of the week. You expect, I presume, to
have pupils from the South as heretofore; will such a sectional display
be likely to attract them or to repel them? If they can go elsewhere they
will not come to you. They will not be attracted by a perpetual memento
before their eyes of your triumph over them. It was not politic. It is no
improvement for Christian America to show less humanity than heathen
Rome. The Romans never made demonstrations of triumph over the defeat of
their countrymen in a civil war. It is no proof of superior civilization
that we refuse to follow Roman example in such cases.

"My dear cousin, I have written you very frankly, but I trust you will
not misunderstand me as having any personal reproaches to make for the
part you have taken in the matter. We undoubtedly view the field from
different standpoints. I concede to you conscientious motives in what you
do. You are sustained by those around you, men of intellect, men of
character. I respect them while I differ from them. I appeal, however, to
a higher law, and that, I think, sustains me."

His strong and outspoken stand for what he believed to be the right made
him many enemies, and he was called hard names by the majority of those
by whom he was surrounded at the North; and yet the very fearlessness
with which he advocated an unpopular point of view undoubtedly compelled
increased respect for him. A proof of this is given in a letter to