a canopy, and covered with black velvet, which stood in front of the Executive Mansion.

At two o'clock the grand procession started. Pennsyl vania Avenue was completely cleared, from the Executive Mansion to the Capitol. Every window along its whole length-all the roofs of all the houses-the sidewalks, and every accessible spot along the route, were crowded with a living throng, awaiting in sad and oppressive silence the approach of the funeral-car. The soft, sad strains of funereal music soon broke the stillness of the summer air, and marshalled the grand military cortège which led the way. Then came the hearse, drawn by six gray horses, draped in black, and preceded by twenty pall-bearers, selected from both Houses of Congress, from the Army and Navy, and from civil life, and followed by a great throng of the most eminent officers of the Government, and of deputations from every State and section of the country, and from benevolent, industrial, and political societies throughout the land. Filling Pennsylvania Avenue through its whole extent, this great processionmarshalled with military precision, and marching to the cadence of slow music from many bands-escorted, with becoming pomp, the remains of the martyred President to the National Capitol, which rose in white grandeur, clad, from basement to the summit of its lordly dome, with garments of woe, to receive the precious gift. The whole vast building was draped in black. All the pillars were entwined with crape,--from all the windows hung emblems of mourning, and a black canopy surmounted the Eastern door, by which the great concourse was to enter. Minute-guns from all the forts around the city thundered forth their sad salutations,-the bells from every tower and spire rang out in muffled tones their chronicle of the stately march. At a little after three o'clock the military cortège, which led the procession, entered the open space in front of the Eastern entrance. Filing past in proper order, the infantry, wheeling, faced the Capitol,—the artillery took position on the hill opposite the entrance,—-the cavalry remained in the street, and a great throng of

spectators gazed in silence upon the grand display.· As the funeral-car approached, all the military bands burst into a solemn requiem,-the artillery thundered out their stormy greeting, -the vast crowd, as by a common impulse, uncovered,--and as Rev. Dr. Gurley, in deep and impressive tones, recited the grand sentences in which the Church signalizes the departure of her dead, the body of President Lincoln was borne into the rotunda and placed upon the lofty catafalque prepared for its reception. As the recitation closed, President Johnson entered the hall, followed by several Senators. Captain Robert Lincoln and the family relatives came forward. The President's body-guard formed in double column near the body. Dr. Gurley made a closing prayer and pronounced the benediction. All then left the Rotunda: guards were stationed at all the doors. General Augur and his staff took charge of the remains, and with drawn swords the officers detailed for the service mounted guard over them. As night came on, the jets of gas concealed in the height of the dome were lighted up, and cast their softened glare upon the vigil that was kept below.

The body of the President remained in the Rotunda, exposed to public view, during the night of the 19th, and until nine o'clock at night of the succeeding day. Thousands upon thousands visited the Capital to take a last look at his features, and among them were many wounded soldiers, hobbling from the hospitals, to gaze for the last time upon the face of the late Commander-in-Chief. A guard of honor remained during the night, and at six o'clock on the morning of the 21st, the members of the Cabinet and distinguished officers of the army, and many members of Congress, paid their final visit to the remains. The coffin was then prepared for removal, and closed.

It had been decided to transfer the President's remains to Springfield, Illinois, the place of his residence, for final interment; and the original purpose had been to make the transit as rapidly as was convenient, and with out exposure of the body to public view. But this design could not be carried out. From every city and town

along the extended route came up a cry of the people to be allowed to look upon the face of the great martyr to their principles and their national life. This demand was conceded, and arrangements were made for a special funeral train over all the roads. A car was fitted up with great taste and elegance, for the reception of the remains. The whole car was draped in black, the mourning on the outside being festooned in double rows above and below the windows. At seven o'clock, after a prayer by the Rev. Dr. Gurley, the coffin containing the remains was removed from the Rotunda, and escorted to the railroad dépôt, without music, by companies of the Twelfth Veteran Reserve Corps, and followed by Lieutenant-General Grant, members of the Cabinet, and other distinguished personages. At the dépôt it was received by President Johnson and others, and placed in the rear of the car designed for its reception. A guard of twenty-one first sergeants of the Veteran Reserve Corps had been detailed to accompany the train; a large number of gentlemen, who had been invited to attend, entered the cars, and at eight o'clock, after another prayer by Dr. Gurley, the train, embracing seven carriages, all in mourning, and drawn by a locomotive also draped with black, slowly moved, amid a vast crowd of silent and sad spectators, out of the dépôt towards Baltimore. Under the direction of the War Department, a schedule of times of arrival at and departure from every place along the route, for the whole distance, had been marked out with great precision, and was rigidly adhered to. The rate of speed was restricted, a pilot engine was sent in advance to observe the road, and every possible precaution was adopted for the prevention of accidents. As the train moved out of the dépôt, the great multitude reverently uncovered their heads, and stood fixed in their grief some moments after it had passed away.

The passage of this great funeral procession, a distance of more than a thousand miles, through the largest and most populous States and towns of the Union, was one of the most remarkable spectacles ever seen on the face

of the earth. At every point, for all that great distance, vast gatherings of the people assembled to catch a glimpse of the passing train; and at every place where it stopped, and the remains were exposed to view, great crowds, such as no other occasion had ever brought together before, came to look upon the features of their murdered chief. The great cities poured forth their population in uncounted masses. In town and country every house was hung with mourning-flags drooped at half-mast, and inscriptions, filled with touching expressions of the nation's sorrow, or glowing with eulogy of the departed leader, greeted the eye, and renewed the sorrow, of the spectator everywhere.

At ten o'clock the train entered the dépôt at Baltimore, where, in spite of inclement weather, it was met by an immense procession of all ages and classes of people:the coffin was borne through the vast crowd, who stood with uncovered heads, to the funeral-car, elegantly draped, and its sides composed of plate-glass, which awaited its reception in Camden Street. A large and imposing military display, under command of BrigadierGeneral H. H. Lockwood, escorted the remains to the Exchange, which had been prepared to receive them, and where they were placed upon a raised dais, covered by a canopy of black and strewn with rare and choice flowers, as a fit resting-place for the illustrious dead. An immense crowd surrounded the building, only a small portion of whom could possibly gain admittance to look upon the corpse. At half-past two the coffin was closed, and removed, a large procession following it to the dépôt of the Northern Central Railroad Company, from which the funeral train departed at three for Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, the Governor of that State being one of the attendant mourners.

Arriving at Harrisburg at eight o'clock in the evening, the streets were thronged, in spite of a heavy rain, with great crowds of people, who followed the remains to the Capitol, where the body lay in state, upon a catafalque surmounted by a wreath of flowering almonds. It was

exposed to public view from nine o'clock to midnight, when the coffin was closed until seven in the morning. It was then again opened, and thousands of citizens passed in to view the body. At nine o'clock, amid the thunder of artillery, a long column of soldiers entered the hall for the same purpose. At eleven o'clock the coffin was replaced upon the funeral-car, and the train departed.

All along the route, in the villages, and along the roadside in the country districts, the people gathered in large numbers, merely to view the passing train. At Lancaster, not less than twenty thousand were thus assembled. On either side of the road stood benevolent, religious, and working associations, dressed in mourning, standing in long lines, and reverently uncovering their heads as the funeral-car passed by. As the train ap proached Philadelphia, these demonstrations of respect increased. Private residences were draped in mourning, and flags drooped from every eminence. At half-past four the train reached the dépôt in Broad Street, and at six the majestic procession, formed to escort the remains to Independence Hall, commenced its march through streets densely filled with people who had gathered from every part of the surrounding country; and at half-past nine, before the rear of the procession had left the dépôt, the body of the President was deposited in the hall, which first echoed the Declaration of Independence, and which was now prepared, with exquisite taste, to receive to its sanctuary the great martyr of the Liberty which was then proclaimed. In the morning the doors were opened for the public, and before daylight lines were formed, extending from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, at least three miles, of persons awaiting their chance to see the corpse. This continued all through the day, and deep into the succeeding night. Scenes the most touching and impressive marked this farewell. visit. The wounded soldiers limping in to look at their late commandernegroes, old and young, flocking in to see him whom they deemed the great deliverer of their race-citizens of