found upon him and identified, and he was committed to the Old Capitol Prison. He made his escape about a week later, being fired upon by the guard. A large reward for his capture was advertised in various papers East and West, and when he reached St. Catherines with his arm in a sling, wounded by a bullet which had passed through it, his story was believed by Messrs. Clay and Jacob Thompson, or, at any rate, if they had any doubts upon the subject, they were not strong enough to prevent his carrying their messages afterward.

The last time I saw Mr. Lincoln to speak with him was in the afternoon of the day of his murder. The same Jacob Thompson was the subject of our conversation. I had received a report from the Provost Marshal of Portland, Maine, saying that Mr. Thompson was to be in that town that night for the purpose of taking the steamer for Liverpool; and what orders had the Department to give? I carried the telegram to Mr. Stanton. He said promptly, "Arrest him;" but as I was leaving his room, he called me back, adding, "You had better take it over to the President." It was now between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, and business at the White House was completed for the day. I found Mr. Lincoln with his coat off in a closet attached to his office washing his hands. "Halloo, Dana," said he, as I opened the door, "what is it now?" "Well, sir," I said,

"here is the Provost Marshal of Portland, who reports that Jacob Thompson is to be in that town tonight, and inquires what orders we have to give." "What does Stanton say?" he asked. Arrest him," I replied. "Well," he continued, drawling his words, "I rather guess not. When you have an elephant

on hand, and he wants to run away, better let him run.”

This answer I carried back to the War Department; and, accordingly, no reply was sent to the Provost Marshal. That night Mr. Lincoln was shot, and in the room adjoining the small chamber in which he lay unconscious and breathing heavily, Mr. Stanton, the only member of the Administration who seemed to retain his self-possession and undiminished energy, gave all the orders for hours that seemed necessary to carry on the government. I left him at about two o'clock in the morning and went home to sleep. But at five o'clock Colonel Pelouse knocked at my front door.

Opening the window, I asked,

"What is it?" Mr. Dana," said he, “Mr. Lincoln is dead, and Mr. Stanton directs you to arrest Jacob Thompson."

The order was sent to Portland, but Thompson did not come there. Some years afterward he told me that he had thought it safer to go to England by way of Halifax.

CHARLES A. DANA.

XXI.

JOHN A. KASSON.

RIOR to Lincoln's election as President I never

PRIOC

met him not, indeed, until after he sent my name to the Senate for the post of First AssistantPostmaster-General. I think this was the second nomination he sent to that body. Afterward I had frequent occasion to see him, both during the period of that service and during my subsequent congressional service, but almost wholly on official busi

ness.

From the President's room in the White House you can see prominent objects in Alexandria, six miles down the Potomac. The one prominent object which then for days attracted and offended the patriot's eye from those windows, was the rebel flag floating from the staff on the roof of the hotel in that city, as if in defiance of the national Capitol, a few miles away. President Lincoln's young neighbor of Springfield, Ill., Ellsworth, mounted alone to the roof, cut it down, and was himself killed by the rebel owner as he descended the staircase. I called on the President just after that occurrence, and con

gratulated him, as I stood by the window, on the improved view down the Potomac, where, instead of the Confederate, the Union flag now floated. I was taken aback by Mr. Lincoln's joyless response, "Yes, but it was at a terrible cost!" and the tears rushed into his eyes as he said it. It was his first personal realization of what the war meant. His tender respect for human life had received its first wound. It was not battle, it was assassination. He did not foresee the hundreds of thousands who were to fall before the great strife, would be ended. He afterward learned to bear the loss of thousands in battle more bravely than he bore the loss of this one in the beginning of the contest. But the loss of a single life, otherwise than in the ranged fight, was always hard for him, as so often shown in his action upon the judgments of courtsmartial.

Early in his first term there was a vacancy in the United States Supreme Court to be filled from the Western States. Among the candidates was a lawyer whom I knew, whose reputation for ability was locally well established, but who had no national reputation. The recommendations had been for many weeks on file, but no action taken. One day this gentleman came to me, said something was operating as a check on his nomination, and he was satisfied I could remove it if I would call on the

President. I went to the White House and called up the case. Mr. Lincoln said: "I never heard of this man before, unless it is, who had an election contest in Congress over the Mormon vote. Is that the man?" I answered him, "No, there is no common blood in their veins." I then described the character of the candidate, his history and the qualities which in my judgment fitted him especially for the high place to which he aspired. The hitch was in the President's supposition that an ordinary politician had been recommended for a high judicial place, and he could not approve such a proposition. In a few days the nomination went in and was confirmed, and to-day, by the general judgment of the bar, the gentleman so appointed, if not in fact the brightest luminary on the bench, is unsurpassed in constitutional learning and in force of logic. opinions rank with the best since the time of Marshall. This incident is worthy of mention, because it shows that in appointments of high importance Mr. Lincoln was careful and conscientious, although in the less important places he was too much inclined to oblige friends, and to trust to superficial assur

ances.

His

Many smiles have been caused by President Lincoln's quaint remark, in reply to some applicant for office, in which he said, "My dear sir, I have not much influence with this administration." An inci