owards building
up a successful career either in war or politics. And yet to arrive
at a true conception of Jackson's character it is necessary that such
incidents should be recorded. That character will not appear the less
admirable because its strength and energy were tempered by softer
virtues; and when we remember the great soldier teaching a negro
child, or ministering to the comfort of a sick slave, it becomes easy
to understand the feelings with which his veterans regarded him. The
quiet home at Lexington reveals more of the real man than the camps
and conflicts of the Civil War, and no picture of Stonewall Jackson
would be complete without some reference to his domestic life.

"His life at home," says his wife, "was perfectly regular and
systematic. He arose about six o'clock, and first knelt in secret
prayer; then he took a cold bath, which was never omitted even in the
coldest days of winter. This was followed by a brisk walk, in rain or
shine.

"Seven o'clock was the hour for family prayers, which he required all
his servants to attend promptly and regularly. He never waited for
anyone, not even his wife. Breakfast followed prayers, after which he
left immediately for the Institute, his classes opening at eight
o'clock and continuing to eleven. Upon his return home at eleven
o'clock he devoted himself to study until one. The first book he took
up daily was his Bible, which he read with a commentary, and the many
pencil marks upon it showed with what care he bent over its pages.
From his Bible lesson he turned to his text-books. During those hours
of study he would permit no interruption, and stood all the time in
front of a high desk. After dinner he gave himself up for half an
hour or more to leisure and conversation, and this was one of the
brightest periods in his home life. He then went into his garden, or
out to his farm to superintend his servants, and frequently joined
them in manual labour. He would often drive me to the farm, and find
a shady spot for me under the trees, while he attended to the work of
the field. When this was not the case, he always returned in time to
take me, if the weather permitted, for an evening walk or drive. In
summer we often took our drives by moonlight, and in the beautiful
Valley of Virginia the queen of night seemed to shine with more
brightness than elsewhere. When at home he would indulge himself in a
season of rest and recreation after supper, thinking it was inju