science and its discoveries, books and music were the subjects of con- 

 versation, but there was nothing in the least pedantic or "high-brow" 

 in the brilhant talk, for briUiant it assuredly was. We did very little 

 formal entertaining, but simple evening parties were many and the 

 house was frequented by what seems to me, in retrospect, an unending 

 stream of callers. 



It is the fashion nowadays to decry the Calvinistic theology and to 

 paint its professors as gloomy and austere fanatics. Whatever may be 

 true of other communities, I can truthfully say that never, in any part 

 of the world, have I met such sunny, genial, kindly and tolerant people 

 as my Grandfather and his children. He stands in my memory as the 

 ideal of a perfect saint and gentleman, in whom I could see no flaw. 

 The whole community revered and honoured him, but I can give no 

 conception of the position which he held, or of the selfless, unconscious 

 way in which he held it. He never talked of himself, save to tell of some 

 experience which he had had. From 1827 to 1829, he had spent two 

 years as a student in Germany, chiefly in Berlin, which was in the days 

 of the stagecoach and the sailing ship and only twelve years after Water- 

 loo. From his inexhaustible store of memories, he would often tell us 

 something that had especially appealed to him. 



In his Memories, my brother. Major General H. L. Scott, bears under 

 the same testimony as to the nature of the home that we shared. Until 

 he left it and learned otherwise, he took it for granted and supposed 

 that every educated household was like that. When he went to school 

 at Lawrenceville, he would often climb out of his bedroom window 

 at night, walk the five miles to Princeton, visit the dogs and horses, 

 peep through the windows of the house and then go sadly back to 

 school. None of the family knew of the escapades of the homesick boy 

 and I first learned of them from reading his book. 



I am not sure that that, perhaps, overstimulating life was altogether 

 good for me. I have often imagined, at least, that I have had to pay 

 dear in later life for the joys and advantages of those early days. My 

 Mother's chief preoccupation was to keep her boys from being an an- 

 noyance to her father and stepmother. So she did what was in her 

 power to repress us and make us silent and invisible. It is rather a 

 curious coincidence that my wife and I should both have had the same 

 sort of experience, of growing up in our grandfathers' houses because 

 of the early loss of our fathers and of the way in which our mothers 

 repressed us, lest we become nuisances to the old people. 



[8] 



