in many respects, was one of constant self-discipline, and when his time came to sacrifice himself, he submitted without a murmur.  But in his creed fear had no place.  His faith was great.  It was not, however, a mere belief in God’s omnipotence and God’s justice, but a deep and abiding confidence in His infinite compassion and infinite love; and it created in him an almost startling consciousness of the nearness and reality of the invisible world.  In a letter to his wife it is revealed in all its strength: 

“You must not be discouraged at the slowness of recovery.  Look up to Him who giveth liberally for faith to be resigned to His divine will, and trust Him for that measure of health which will most glorify Him, and advance to the greatest extent your own real happiness.  We are sometimes suffered to be in a state of perplexity that our faith may be tried and grow stronger.  See if you cannot spend a short time after dark in looking out of your window into space, and meditating upon heaven, with all its joys unspeakable and full of glory..."All things work together for good” to God’s children.  Try to look up and be cheerful, and not desponding.  Trust our kind Heavenly Father, and by the eye of faith see that all things are right and for your best interests.  The clouds come, pass over us, and are followed by bright sunshine; so in God’s moral dealings with us, He permits to have trouble awhile.  But let us, even in the most trying dispensations of His Providence, be cheered by the brightness which is a little ahead.”

It would serve no useful purpose to discuss Jackson’s views on controversial questions.  It may be well, however, to correct a common error.  It has been asserted that he was a fatalist, and therefore careless of a future over which he believed he had no control.  Not a word, however, either in his letters or in his recorded conversations warrants the assumption.  It is true that his favourite maxim was “Duty is ours, consequences are God’s,” and that knowing “all things work together for good,” he looked forward to the future without misgiving or apprehension.

But none the less he believed implicitly that the destiny of men and of nations is in their own hands.  His faith was as sane as it was humble, without a touch of that presumptuous fanaticism which stains the memory of Cromwell, to whom he has been so often compared.  He never imagined, even at the height of his renown, when victory on victory crowned his banners, that he was “the scourge of God,” the chosen instrument of His vengeance.  He prayed without ceasing, under fire as in the camp; but he never mistook his own impulse for a revelation of the divine will.  He prayed for help to do his duty, and he prayed for success.  He knew that: 

“More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of;”