f Abner Green; he was in company with a
daughter of Henry Green and her husband; her mother was niece to Mrs.
Jackson. We called to see the President, and when my lady was
introduced to the General, he was informed she was the daughter of his
old friend, Abner Green, of Second Creek. He did not speak, but held
her hand for some moments, gazing intently into her face. His feelings
overcame him, and clasping her to his bosom, he said, "I must kiss you,
my child, for your sainted mother's sake;" then holding her from him,
he looked again, "Oh! how like your mother you are--she was the friend
of my poor Rachel, when she so much needed a friend--I loved her, and I
love her memory;" and then, as if ashamed of his emotion, he continued:
"You see, my child, though I am President through the kindness or folly
of the people, I am but a weak, silly old man."

We spent the evening with him, and when in his private sitting-room his
pipe was lighted and brought to him, he said: "Now, my child, let us
talk about Mississippi and the old people." I have never in all my life
seen more tenderness of manner, or more deep emotion shown, than this
stern old man continually evinced when speaking of his wife and her
friends.

The character of General Jackson is yet greatly misunderstood. This has
been caused by the fact that his words and actions, when in command, or
when enraged, as a man, have been the main data upon which the estimate
of his bearing and character has been predicated. He was irascible and
quick in his temper, and when angered was violent in words and manner.
It was at such moments that the stern inflexibility of his will was
manifest; and his passion towered in proportion to provocation. But in
private life and social intercourse he was bland, gentle, and
conciliating. His manner was most polished and lofty in society, and in
a lady's parlor, in urbanity and polish of manners, he never had a
superior. This high polish was nature's spontaneous gift. He had never
been taught it in courts, or from association with those who had. It
was the emanation of his great soul, which stole out through his every
word and movement in the presence of ladies, and which erupted as a
volcano at insult or indignity from man.

That evening at the White House is marked in my memory with a white
stone. The playful simplicity of his conversation and manner, and the
particularity of his inquiries about matters and things so
insignificant, but whi