usand
years ago, so still it must be said, 'The judgments of the Lord
are true and righteous altogether.'"

His peroration will always be remembered for its impressive
eloquence:

"With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness in
the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to
finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care
for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and
his orphan; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and
lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."

Soon after the adjournment I was invited by Secretary Stanton, with
many other Senators and our families, to take a trip to the south
in the steamer "Baltic." Among those on board were Senators Simon
Cameron, Wade, Zach. Chandler, and Foster, of Connecticut, then
president _pro tempore_ of the Senate. The sea was exceedingly
boisterous. Nearly all on board were sea sick, but none so badly
as Wade and Chandler, both of whom, I fear, violated the third
commandment, and nearly all the party were in hearty sympathy with
them. I was a good sailor and about the only one who escaped the
common fate. We visited the leading places of interest along the
coast, but especially Charleston, Beaufort and Savannah. Charleston
had but recently been evacuated. General Sherman was then on his
march through North Carolina. In Charleston everything looked
gloomy and sad. I rode on horseback alone through different parts
of the city, and was warned by officers not to repeat the ride,
as, if my name was known, I would be in danger of being shot.

We arrived in Beaufort on Sunday morning. The town was then full
of contrabands. We remained there that day and received an invitation
from a negro preacher to attend religious services at his new
meeting-house. About fifteen or twenty of the party went to the
"meeting-house," a new unfinished skeleton-frame house of considerable
size without any plastering--a mere shell. We were shown to seats
that had been reserved for us. The rest of the congregation were
negroes in every kind of dress and of every shade of color. The
scene was very interesting, but the sermon of the preacher was
little better than gibberish. He was a quaint old man, wearing
goggles and speaking a dialect we could hardly understand. At the
close of his sermon he narrated how the meeting-house had been
built; that John had hauled the logs, Tom, Dick and Harry,