He was a man of absolute integrity, of absolute veracity, and of a tender and boundless compassion.

One of the most touching scenes I ever beheld was, when at his funeral, among the men of high station and of honor, there came forward a little group of Negroes and fugitive slaves who had been attracted to Worcester by its reputation as the home of freedom.
They passed by the coffin with bowed heads and moistened eyes, every one of them probably knowing him as the friend and benefactor who had made life possible for them in this strange and unaccustomed community.

He did not get carried off his feet by any sentimentalities.
He was the best of company.

You could not talk with him or tackle him without a bright and entertaining answer.

He was no great respecter of persons in such an encounter.