I know, when I left him, that I was more than ever impressed by his
kindly nature, his deep and earnest sympathy with the afflictions of
the whole people, resulting from the war, and by the march of hostile
armies through the South; and that his earnest desire seemed to be to
end the war speedily, without more bloodshed or devastation, and to
restore all the men of both sections to their homes. In the language
of his second inaugural address he seemed to have "charity for all,
malice toward none," and, above all, an absolute faith in the courage,
manliness, and integrity of the armies in the field. When at rest or
listening, his legs and arms seemed to hang almost lifeless, and his
face was care-worn and haggard; but the moment he began to talk his
face lightened up, his tall form, as it were, unfolded, and he was the
very impersonation of good-humor and fellowship. The last words I
recall as addressed to me were that he would feel better when I was
back at Goldsboro'. We parted at the gang-way of the River Queen about
noon of March 28th, and I never saw him again. Of all the men I ever
met, he seemed to possess more of the elements of greatness, combined
with goodness, than any other.