His book completed, he calmly and patiently awaited the inevitable hour. His last days were as serene as those of his most prosperous years. His courage never faltered. He was patient, gentle, thoughtful of others. “Let no one be distressed on my account,” seemed to be the burden of his thoughts, as it was of the last words his feeble fingers traced on paper. He sent messages of thankfulness and good-will to all. He looked death in the face and did not quail. And so, preserving to the end the simple manhood of his life, his brain unclouded and his heart filled only with loving-kindness and serene content, he drifted away, quietly and peacefully, into the unknown sea that flows round all the world. The lesson of his life is a lesson for all the generations of men, for it is a lesson of encouragement to the poor, of hope to the unknown, of comfort to the despairing, and of inspiration to the brave, the loyal, the honest and the true-hearted. He had risen from obscurity to the sun-bright heights of fame. He knew the bitterness of want, and the despair of friendlessness. He became the commander of the greatest army ever mustered on the earth, the executive head of the Nation, the familiar associate of the great and powerful of every land. But he never lost his poise, his self-control, his modest dignity, or his manly worth. He lived down, during his lifetime, every calumny and every hate. The party that had denounced, assailed and opposed him, became at last his eulogist. The foemen he had conquered in war became his friends and mourners. And to-day, with reverent sorrow, the civilized world stands uncovered around his grave. The impress he left upon the age in which he lived can never be effaced. He wrought, during his life, without a thought of dramatic effect, yet his career was crowded with the most dramatic events. There was little of romantic feeling in his nature, yet his life was so wonderful that the story of it will have all the charm of a romance. His bulletins and orders, as a soldier, were never rhetorical, yet they have in them the thunder of cannon and the shouting of the captains. He was never noisily self-assertive; he accepted his appointed place, whether high or low, with equal complacency, and there did his whole duty. In the purity of his life, in the unselfishness of his patriotism, and in the firmness of his action, he resembled George H. Thomas, and to these qualities he added the prompt, bold and resourceful perceptions of William T. Sherman and the energy and dash of Phil. Sheridan.