The painter, like many others, was impressed by the tragic cast of his expression, despite the surface mirth.

“His complexion, at this time, was inclined to sallowness his eyes were bluish gray in color—­always in deep shadow, however, from the upper lids which were unusually heavy (reminding me in this respect of Stuart’s portrait of Washington) and the expression was remarkably pensive and tender, often inexpressibly sad, as if the reservoir of tears lay very near the surface—­a fact proved not only by the response which accounts of suffering and sorrow invariably drew forth, but by circumstances which would ordinarily affect few men in his position."(12) As a result of the great strain to which he was subjected “his demeanor and disposition changed-so gradually that it would be impossible to say when the change began. . . .  He continued always the same kindly, genial, and cordial spirit he had been at first; but the boisterous laughter became less frequent, year by year; the eye grew veiled by constant meditation on momentous subjects; the air of reserve and detachment from his surroundings increased.  He aged with great rapidity."(13)

Every Saturday afternoon the Marine Band gave an open-air concert in the grounds of the White House.  One afternoon Lincoln appeared upon the portico.  There was instant applause and cries for a speech.  “Bowing his thanks and excusing himself, he stepped back into the retirement of the circular parlor, remarking (to Carpenter) with a disappointed air, as he reclined on a sofa, ’I wish they would let me sit there quietly and enjoy the music.’  His kindness to others was unfailing.  It was this harassed statesman who came into the studio one day and found (Carpenter’s) little boy of two summers playing on the floor.  A member of the Cabinet was with him; but laying aside all restraint, he took the little fellow in his arms and they were soon on the best of terms.”  While his younger son “Tad” was with his mother on a journey, Lincoln telegraphed:  “Tell Tad, father and the goats are well, especially the goats."(14) He found time one bright morning in May to review the Sunday-school children of Washington who filed past “cheering as if their very lives depended upon it,” while Lincoln stood at a window “enjoying the scene... making pleasant remarks about a face that now and then struck him."(15) Carpenter told him that no other president except Washington had placed himself so securely in the hearts of the people.  “Homely, honest, ungainly Lincoln,” said Asa Gray, in a letter to Darwin, “is the representative man of the country.”

However, two groups of men in his own party were sullenly opposed to him—­the relentless Vindictives and certain irresponsible free lances who named themselves the “Radical Democracy.”  In the latter group, Fremont was the hero; Wendell Phillips, the greatest advocate.  They were extremists in all things; many of them Agnostics.  Furious against Lincoln, but unwilling to go along with the waiting