sincere and devoted -- natures outstandingly great -- carry within themselves. He added to this the youthful expression that habitual benevolent and pure thoughts preserve in a face, in spite of years. Man of duty, passionate citizen, convinced Christian; Robert Lee ignored all the unhealthy ambitions -- even that of personal glory. His army, for him, represented his share of duty in the torn-apart fatherland. He was absorbed by ict and was to prove himself, in all circumstances, as careful of its honor as of its comfort. His soldiers felt it and trusted him. They knew they were in good hands -- in hands that were affectionate, far-sighted, trustworthy. They knew that a noble intelligence was working for their good and their glory; that their General was theirs -- undoubtedly theirs -- with all his thoughts, all his heart, all his ardor, and -- with its significance in the army of a Christian people all his virile prayers of a believer.
Motionless, Lee, while he was urging his troops along, was waiting with a secret anxiety. He was waiting for Jackson, and Jackson was not arriving. The last Division had just entered into combat, when, at last, a frenzied cry rises and travels through all the ranks "Jackson, Stonewall Jackson!" and the hero of Bull Run comes galloping towards his Chief.
"The Almighty had made both these human beings truly great; to only one of them had He given the additional grace of looking great." Jackson, meager, bent over a skinny horse
