rites of the church. The great Jackson, so
eager for the combat on other days, would not fight on Sunday if it
could be helped.

The crowd was gathering already to hear the minister, who would address
them from a rude little platform built in the centre of a glade.

The day was so calm, so full of the May bloom that Helen felt its peace
steal over her, and for the moment there was no war; this was not an
army, but just a great camp-meeting in the woods, such as the South
often had and still has.

The soldiers were gathered already to the number of many thousands, some
sitting on stumps and logs and others lying on the ground. All were
quiet, inspired with respect for the man and his cloth.

"Let us sit here and listen," said Prescott, and the three, sitting on a
convenient log, waited.

Doctor Warren, for he was an M.A. and a Ph.D. of a great American
university and had taken degrees at another in Germany, ascended his
rude forest pulpit. He was then about forty years of age; tall, thin,
with straight black hair, slightly long, and with angular but
intellectual features.

"A good man," thought Helen, and she was deeply impressed by his air of
authority and the respect that he so evidently inspired.

He spoke to them as to soldiers of the cross, and he made his appeal
directly to their hearts and minds, never to their passions. He did not
inquire into the causes of the conflict in which they were engaged, he
had no criticism for the men on the other side; he seemed rather to
include them in his address. He said it was a great war, marked by many
terrible battles as it would be marked by many more, and he besought
them so to bear themselves that whatever the issue none could say that
he had not done his duty as he saw it. And whether they fell in battle
or not, that would be the great comfort to those who were at home
awaiting their return.

Prescott noticed many general officers in the crowd listening as
attentively as the soldiers. All sounds in the camp had died and the
speaker's clear voice rose now and penetrated far through the forest.
The open air, the woods, the cannon at rest clothed the scene with a
solemnity that no cathedral could have imparted. The same peace enfolded
the Northern army, and it required but little fancy to think that the
soldiers there were listening, too. It seemed at the moment an easy and
natural thing for them both to lay down their arms and go home.

The minister talked, too,