pew at the Presbyterian church, hymn-book in hand, his earnest countenance turned up to the pulpit with close attention. Religious duties soon became the controlling occupation of his life; the society of good men and women his chief relaxation and greatest source of pleasure. All who know any thing of Jackson, and observed him in private then and during his period of command in the field thereafter, will remember the marked preference which he displayed for the society of clergymen, and the childlike fondness, almost tenderness, which he exhibited toward the pious ladies whom he encountered on his marches. His reputation as an earnest and devoted Christian had singularly endeared him to these gray-haired matrons, and he repaid their attentions with a respect and deference which was beautiful to behold. The present writer has seen him, after a long and exhausting march, when he had scarcely tasted food for twenty-four hours, forget the tempting supper before him, and give his whole attention to the aged lady who sat beside him. This spectacle was familiar to those who lived with him. Strangers may have found in it a topic for amusement and jests; but to the writer of these pages it seemed indicative of that simplicity and goodness which were the natural instincts of his character.

Any discussion of the peculiar religious views of Jackson must be left to abler hands than those of the present writer. He was popularly spoken of as a "fatalist"—which means, if it means any thing, one who believes that what will be, will be. It is sufficient to say of Jackson that he was a member of the Presbyterian Church, and strongly embraced the doctrines of predestination and Providential supervision. It has been said that he cherished an unfailing "confidence in his destiny," and believed that he had "a distinct mission of duty in which he should be spared for the ends of Providence." This may be true; but it is certain that his motto was, "Do your duty, and leave the rest to God." His faith was not speculative, but practical and living. His earnestness of temperament was carried into religious affairs, and he was averse to all sentiment which did not prove

its genuineness by action. With him his Christian faith was a practical influence, shaping his habits and life. The reality of his feeling was shown every day, and no adverse influences seemed to affect it. In camp and surrounded by the many distracting cares of command his habits of meditation and prayer remained unaltered, and he was as devout an observer of religious exercises as in the days of peace. He was generally regarded as sectarian in his views, and one of his nicknames was "The Blue Light Elder." But this popular belief seems to have been entirely erroneous. He was a devoted but not bigoted member of the Presbyterian Church; and a most intelligent staff officer, long serving near his person, assured the present writer that he had no such exclusive feeling whatever. A letter to Dr. Hoge on the subject of army chaplains, in the spring of 1863, is a strong proof of this; and those who were thrown in personal contact with him during his military career, will not easily be convinced that his just, liberal, and Catholic intellect could have hampered itself within the narrow boundaries of sectarianism.

We pass now to his personal traits and habits. Well-meaning persons have drawn a wholly incorrect likeness of Jackson at this period of his life. Misled by admiration, and yielding to the temptation to eulogy, they have bestowed upon Professor Jackson every moral and physical grace, and even his eccentricities have been toned down into winning ways, original and characteristic, which only made their possessor more graceful and charming than before. We are sorry to say that this is all fancy. Jackson was the farthest possible removed from any thing graceful and as the first merit of any biography is accuracy, we shall endeavor to lay before the reader a truthful sketch of the real form seen moving to and fro, on the streets of Lexington, between the years 1851 and 1861.

It was the figure of a tall, gaunt, awkward individual, wearing a gray uniform, and apparently moving by separate and distinct acts of volition. This stiff and unbending figure passed over the ground with a sort of stride, as though measuring the

distance from one given point to another; and those who followed its curious movements, saw it pause at times, apparently from having reached the point desired. The eyes of the individual at such moments were fixed intently upon the ground; his lips moved in soliloquy; the absent and preoccupied gaze and gencral expression of the features, plainly showed a profound unconsciousness of "place and time." It was perfectly obvious that the mind of the military-looking personage in the gray coat, was busy upon some problem entirely disconnected from his actual surroundings. The fact of his presence at Lexington, in the commonwealth of Virginia, had evidently disappeared from his consciousness; the figures moving around him were mere phantasmagoria: he had travelled in search of some principle of philosophy, or some truth in theology, quite out of the real, workaday world, and deep into the land of dreams. If you spoke to him at such times, he awoke as it were from sleep, and looked into your face with an air of simplicity and inquiry, which sufficiently proved the sudden transition which he had made from the world of thought to that of reality.

In lecturing to his class, his manner was grave, earnest, full of military brevity, and destitute of all the graces of the speaker. Business-like, systematic, somewhat stern, with an air of rigid rule, as though the matter at issue was of the utmost importance, and he was entrusted with the responsibility of seeing that due attention was paid to it-he did not make a very favorable impression upon the volatile youths who sat at the feet of this military Gamaliel. They listened decorously to the grave Professor, but, once dismissed from his presence, took their revenge by a thousand jests upon his peculiarities of mind and demeanor. His oddities were the subject of incessant jokes: his eccentric ways were dwelt upon with all the eloquence and sarcastic gusto which characterize the gay conversation of young men discussing an unpopular teacher. No idiosyncrasy of the Professor was lost sight of. His stiff, angular figure; the awkward movement of his body; his absent and "grum" demeanor; his exaggerated and apparently absurd devotion to military regularity; his weari

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some exactions of a similar observance on their part::-that general oddity, eccentricity, and singularity in moving, talking, thinking, and acting peculiar to himself-all these were described on a thousand occasions, and furnished unfailing food for laughter. They called him " Old Tom Jackson ;" and pointing significantly to their foreheads, said he was not quite right there." Some inclined to the belief that he was only a great eccentric; but others declared him "crazy." Those who had experienced the full weight of his Professional baton-who had been reprimanded before the class, or "reported" to the superintendent for punishment or dismissal-called him " Fool Tom Jackson."

1

These details are not very heroic, and detract considerably from that dignified outline which eulogistic writers upon Jackson have drawn. But they are true. Nothing is better established than the fact that the man to whom General Lee wrote, Could I have directed events, I should have chosen for the good of the country to have been disabled in your stead," and of whom the London Times said, "That mixture of daring and judgment, which is the mark of Heaven born' Generals, distinguished him beyond any man of his time"-nothing is more certain, we say, than that this man was sneered at as a fool, and on many occasions stigmatized as insane.

It is doubtless true, however, that some of the youths, of more generous disposition or penetrating judgment, did not share in this general opinion. They saw in the young Professor originality rather than eccentricity of mind. They could acknowledge the peculiarities of his views and opinions, and the singularity of some of his habits, without sharing the popular impression that some wheel or crank of his mental machinery was out of order. Upon one point, however, there seems to have been a general concurrence: the young teacher's possession of an indomitable fearlessness and integrity in the discharge of every duty. His worst enemies never ventured to say that he did not walk the straight path of right, and administer his official duties without fear, favor, or affection. They were forced to recognize the fact that this stiff military machine measured

out justice to all alike, irrespective of persons, and could not be turned aside from the direct course by any influences around him. The cadets laughed at him, but they were afraid of him. They agreed, by common consent, that it was time thrown away to write excuses for a "report" made by Major Jackson. The faculty, from long experience, had come to understand that when Major Jackson reported a cadet he deserved punishment, and the consequence was that although the young men derided his peculiarities, and laughed in private at his odd ways, they felt that he was their master, and yielded full obedience to his orders.

Such was the ex-artillerist turned professor. From his functions of professor in the school-room he would pass to those of instructor of artillery on the parade ground. Here he was more in his element. He was called upon to teach the mysteries of that arm of the service which he loved above all others; and the proficiency of the cadets in drill and all the evolutions of the battery was soon a subject of remark. Jackson took great interest in these drills, especially when blank cartridges were used. "An ex-Cadet," in his interesting account of this portion of Jackson's life, says: "As soon as the sound of the guns would fall upon his ears, a change would seem to come over Major Jackson. He would grow more erect; the grasp upon his sabre would tighten; the quiet eyes would flash; the large nostrils would dilate, and the calm, grave face would glow with the proud spirit of the warrior. I have been frequently struck with this, and have often called the attention of others to it."

We have thus presented the figure of Jackson under two or three aspects-as the absent-looking thinker moving, lost in meditation, through the streets of Lexington; the grave professor in the lecturer's desk, and the officer of artillery, with sabre at his side, directing the drill and drawling out his commands in the long, singsong fashion peculiar to the graduates of West Point. His appearance on Sunday will conclude our outline He attended church with unfailing regularity. Punctual