I am young and robust; it is natural to me
to laugh, as it is to be pleased with bright faces and happy voices,
with colors, and music, and approbation. I am not as religious as I
ought to be, and wish, with all my heart, I had the deep and devout
piety of that good man and great military genius,[2] Stonewall Jackson.
I can lay no claim to it, you see, Surry; I am only a rough soldier, at
my hard work. I am terribly busy, and my command takes every energy I
possess; but I find time to read my Bible and to pray. I pray for
pardon and forgiveness, and try to do my duty, and leave the rest to
God. If God calls me--and He may call me very soon--I hope I will be
ready, and be able to say, 'Thy will be done.' I expect to be killed in
this war;[3]--Heaven knows, I would have my right hand chopped off at
the wrist to stop it![4]--but I do not shrink from the ordeal before
me, and I am ready to lay down my life for my country."[5]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
[Footnote 2: His words.]
[Footnote 3: His words.]
[Footnote 4: His words.]
[Footnote 5: His words.]
Stuart paused, and leaned his arm upon the rude shelf above the
fireplace, passing his hand over his forehead, as was habitual with
him.
"A hard campaign is coming, Surry," he said, at length, more
cheerfully; "I intend to do my duty in it, and deserve the good opinion
of the world, if I do not secure it.
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