rifice that was garnered in the war.

In the latter part of the year 1860, the air was full of threatenings.
The country was clearly on the verge of civil war, and the feeling
almost as intense as it was in the following April, after the flash of
Edmund Ruffin's gun had fired the Northern heart.

In October, I came a freshman into the University of Michigan, in Ann
Arbor. That noble institution was, even then, the pride of the Peninsula
state. A superb corps of instructors, headed by Henry P. Tappan, the
noblest Roman of them all, smoothed the pathway to learning which a
thousand young men were trying to tread. These boys were full of life,
vigor, ambition and energy. They were from various parts of the country,
though but few were from the Southern States. The atmosphere of the
place was wholesome, and calculated to develop a robust, courageous
manhood. The students were led to study the best antique models, and to
emulate the heroic traits of character in the great men of modern
times. It may be said that nowhere in the land did the fires of
patriotism burn with more fervent heat, during the eventful and exciting
period that preceded by a few months the inauguration of Abraham
Lincoln.

The young men took a deep interest in the political campaign of that
year, and watched with eager faces for every item of news that pertained
to it.

The nomination of Abraham Lincoln was a bitter disappointment to the
young Republicans of Michigan. Seward was their idol and their ideal,
and when the news came of his defeat in the Chicago convention, many men
shed tears, who later learned to love the very ground on which the
Illinois "Railsplitter" stood; and who today cherish his memory with the
same reverential respect which they feel for that of Washington.

During that memorable campaign, Seward spoke in Detroit and scores of
students went from Ann Arbor to hear him. He did not impress one as a
great orator. He was of slight frame, but of a noble and intellectual
cast of countenance. His arguments were convincing, his language
well-chosen, but he was somewhat lacking in the physical attributes so
essential to perfect success as a public speaker. His features were very
marked, with a big nose, a firm jaw, a lofty forehead, and a skin almost
colorless. He had been the choice of Michigan for president and was
received with the warmest demonstrations of respect and enthusiasm.
Every word that fell from his lips was eagerly caught