“I but echo the feelings of all in the Twenty-third Infantry who knew your son, in saying that your great loss is partly theirs. His kindly and generous impulses, his sterling integrity, and his thoroughness as an officer and a gentleman, secured and retained for him the substantial good-will and friendship of all. And while we may grieve at the mournful end of his career, yet this feeling is somewhat neutralized in the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that he died on the field of honor.” In another letter from one who had been in the army and on the staff of General Lockwood at Accomac, Va., occurs the following most admirable and appropriate passage: “I do believe, dear general, that all is well with your son. Standing where no human footstep had ever trod before, seeing what no eye had ever before beheld, alone amid the awful silence of that frozen deep—alone with God—there must have been communings with the Holy One of more import to James than all else besides. And at the last day you will again see your son in glory, wearing the crown of those made perfect through suffering.” Besides the many letters written by personal friends, there were others from perfect strangers, who had either served under General Lockwood in the army, or been especially interested in the fate of the youthful hero. Among the strangers who wrote letters of condolence was the Rev. William E. Griffis, D. D., of Schenectady, N. Y., who had preached a sermon on the conquests of peace, and in which he made the following allusion to Lieutenant Lockwood: “The laurels that repose on the memory of Lieutenant Lockwood are better than battle-honors or wreaths after bloody victories.” It was his opinion that the Arctic secret would yet be won; and that Lockwood and his brother heroes were doing the will of God as explorers in the far North.