conjecture in which many biographers indulge when they try to relate
logically the scattered events of a man's life. A conjectured relation
is set down as a proved or unquestioned relation. I have said something
about this in [Footnote: See John Macy's Guide to Reading, Chapter
VIII.] writing on biography, and I do not wish to violate my own
teachings. But we may, without harm, hazard the suggestion, which is
only a suggestion, that some of the chivalry of Scott's heroes wove
itself into Grant's instincts and inspired this businesslike, modern
general, in the days when politeness has lost some of its flourish, to
be the great gentleman he was at Appomattox when he quietly wrote into
the terms of the surrender that the Confederate officers should keep
their side arms. Stevenson's account of the episode in his essay on
"Gentlemen" is heightened, though not above the dignity of the facts,
certainly not to a degree that is untrue to the facts, as they are to
be read in Grant's simple narrative. Since I have agreed not to say
"ought to read," I will only express the hope that the quotation from
Stevenson will lead you to the essay and to the volume that contains
it.

"On the day of the capitulation, Lee wore his presentation sword; it
was the first thing that Grant observed, and from that moment he had
but one thought: how to avoid taking it. A man, who should perhaps have
had the nature of an angel, but assuredly not the special virtues of a
gentleman, might have received the sword, and no more words about it;
he would have done well in a plain way. One who wished to be a
gentleman, and knew not how, might have received and returned it: he
would have done infamously ill, he would have proved himself a cad;
taking the stage for himself, leaving to his adversary confusion of
countenance and the ungraceful posture of a man condemned to offer
thanks. Grant without a word said, added to the terms this article: