tonished divine by his shoulders, and saying, in his severest
tones, "That, sir, is my business--do you do yours!" thrust him
forcibly from the tent.

His severity as regards the more serious offences did not, however,
alienate in the smallest degree the confidence and affection of his
soldiers. They had full faith in his justice. They were well aware
that to order the execution of some unfortunate wretch gave him
intense pain. But they recognised, as clearly as he did himself, that
it was sometimes expedient that individuals should suffer. They knew
that not all men, nor even the greater part, are heroes, and that if
the worthless element had once reason to believe that they might
escape the legitimate consequences of their crimes, desertion and
insubordination would destroy the army. By some of the senior
officers, however, his rigorous ideas of discipline were less
favourably considered. They were by no means disposed to quarrel with
the fact that the sentences of courts-martial in the Second Army
Corps were almost invariably confirmed; but they objected strongly to
the same measure which they meted out to the men being consistently
applied to themselves. They could not be brought to see that neglect
of duty, however trivial, on the part of a colonel or brigadier was
just as serious a fault as desertion or insubordination on the part
of the men; and the conflict of opinion, in certain cases, had
unfortunate results.

To those whose conduct he approved he was more than considerate.
General Lane, who was under him as a cadet at Lexington, writes as
follows:--

"When in camp at Bunker Hill, after the battle of Sharpsburg, where
the gallant Branch was killed, I, as colonel commanding the brigade,
was directed by General A.P. Hill to hold my command in readiness,
with three days' rations, for detached service, and to report to
General Jackson for further orders. That was all the information that
Hill could give me. I had been in Jackson's corps since the battles
round Richmond, and had been very derelict in not paying my respects
to my old professor. As I rode to his headquarters I wondered if he
would recognise me. I certainly expected to receive his orders in a
few terse sentences, and to be promptly dismissed with a military
salute. He knew me as soon as I entered his tent, though we had not
met for years. He rose quickly, with a smile on his face, took my
hand in both of his in the warmest manner, expressed his pl