of success came in so gradually, that he might have said, 'Now, Lord, lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.' Yet he was free from weakness or vanity. Thus did he exhibit, on occasion, in due proportion and harmonious action, those cardinal virtues, the trinity of true greatness-courage, wisdom and goodness; goodness to love the right, wisdom to know the right, and courage to do the right. Tried by these tests, and by the touchstone of success, he was the greatest of living men.

We read it in the Some of us remem

"But why multiply words of his greatness? nation's eyes. What a scene do we witness! ber when, on the thirteenth of February, 1861, four years and two months before his death, the President was here on his way to Washington, and spoke in the State House. Then, this self-made man was untried, and his friends, and he himself, questioned his capacity to fill the responsible position to which he was chosen. He spoke with misgivings, but placing his reliance on Providence, went forward reluctantly to the chair; and now, after four short years, he returns, borne on the bosom of millions of men, his way watered with tears and strewn with flowers.

"He stood on the summit, his brow bathed in the beams of the rising sun of peace, singing in his heart the angelic song of 'Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth and good will toward men.' 'With malice toward none, with charity for all,' he had forgiven the people of the South, and might have forgotten their leaders— covering with the broad mantle of his charity their multitude of sins. But he is slain-slain by slavery. That fiend incarnate did the deed. Beaten in battle, the leaders sought to save slavery by assassination. This madness presaged their destruction.

"Abraham Lincoln was the personification of Mercy. Andrew Johnson is the personification of Justice. They have murdered Mercy, and Justice rules alone, and the people, with one voice, pray to heaven that justice may be done. The blood of thousands of murdered prisoners cries to heaven. The shades of sixty-two thousand starved soldiers rise up in judgment against them. The body of the murdered President condemns them. Some deprecate vengeance. There is no room for vengeance here. Long before justice can have done her perfect work, the material will be exhausted

and the record closed. Some wonder why the South killed her best friend. Abraham Lincoln was the true friend of the people of the South; for he was their friend as Jesus is the friend of sinners, ready to save when they repent. Ours is the grief, theirs is the loss, and his is the gain. He died for Liberty and Union, and now he wears the martyr's glorious crown. He is our crowned President. While the Union survives, while the love of liberty warms the human heart, Abraham Lincoln will hold high rank among the immortal dead. The imperial free Republic, the best and strongest government on earth, will be a monument to his glory, while over and above all shall rise and swell the great dome of his fame."

The procession of the morning was re-formed, and escorted the remains to the depot, and at eight o'clock p. m. the funeral train resumed its course, amid the firing of guns and the tolling of the bells of the city.

CHAPTER XIX.

At Pleasant Valley, Unionville, Milford, Woodstock and Cable, the depots were decorated and draped in mourning, and bonfires and torches enabled the large crowds assembled to see the funeral train. At Woodstock a delegation of ladies entered the hearse car and decorated the coffin with flowers, and at the same time the Woodstock band played a solemn piece of music.

Urbana, Ohio, 10:30 p. m., April 29. Three thousand people were assembled, and a large bonfire lighted up the scene. Ten young ladies entered the car and strewed flowers on the bier, some of them weeping. At the same time a choir of forty male and female voices sang, "Go to thy Rest." The train arrived and departed with minute guns firing and bells tolling.

At St. Paris and Fletcher bonfires were blazing and the people were standing with heads uncovered and in silence as the train moved along.

Piqua, Ohio, 12:20 a. m., Sunday, April 30. Many thousands of people were assembled at the depot, which was draped in mourning. The scene was lighted up with large fires. A delegation from the Methodist Church, with Rev. Granville Moody, sang a funeral hymn. Two bands also discoursed solemn music.

Covington, Bradford Junction and Gettysburg were passed in quick succession, and, notwithstanding it was in the middle of the night, there was a large crowd at each place, with bonfires, flags and mottoes.

Greenville, Ohio, two o'clock a. m., Sunday, April 30. The depot was tastefully decorated, and the scene

lighted up by two large bonfires. Thirty-six young ladies, representing the States of the Union, were dressed in white, each waving a star-spangled banner. A requiem was sung by a choir of ladies aud gentlemen, A large number of people were standing at the depot at New Madison.

New Paris, 2:41, Sunday morning, April 30. The depot was artistically draped in mourning. An arch spanned the track. It was adorned with evergreens draped in mourning. The scene was lighted up by huge bonfires. This was the last town on that line of road in the State of Ohio.

Richmond, Ind., 3:10 a. m., Sunday, April 30. This was the first town entered in the State of Indiana. The scene here was imposing and magnificently solemn. The city contains about twelve thousand inhabitants, but there were more than that number present. Arrangements were effected the day before to have all the bells in the city rang an hour previous to the expected arrival of the funeral cortege. At the time appointed they pealed forth their notes on the still night air, and soon the streets were filled with men and women, old and young, all wending their way to the depot. Broadbrimmed hats and Quaker bonnets were liberally sprinkled among the vast concourse-as the Friends are more numerous here, in proportion to the whole population, than they are in the city of Philadelphia. Nearly the whole population of the city came out, and the people in the surrounding country left their homes in the middle of the night and came many miles in wagons, carriages, and on horseback, and it was estimated that between twelve and fifteen thousand were present.

As the train approached the city the bells on the engines of the Airline railroad-a cross road—were tolling, and all the engines were lighted up with revolving lamps and tastefully decorated in mourning. A gorgeous arch was constructed, twenty-five feet high

and thirty wide, under which the train passed. On both sides of the structure American flags were wrought into triangles, down the sides of which were suspended, at equal distances, transparencies of red, white, and blue, alternating with chaplets of evergreens, which clambered up the sides of the triangles and centered at the summit in velvet rosettes. Across the structure, at about eighteen feet from the base was a platform carpeted with black velvet. On the ends of this platform were two flags in drooping folds. In the center of this apper work was a female representing the Goddess of Liberty. She was in a sitting posture, weeping over a coffin. On one side was a boy-soldier and on the other a boy-sailor, both acting as mourners. Governor Morton and suite, with other prominent gentlemen from different parts of the State, about one hundred in all, came on a special train from Indianapolis and joined the funeral party at Richmond. After a brief pause, the train moved slowly away, and the multitude, with sad hearts, dispersed to their homes in silence.

Centerville, Ind., 3:41 a. m. The depot was splendidly robed in mourning. At each end of the platform were two chandeliers, brilliantly lighted. The people were anxious for the train to tarry longer, but of course their wishes could not be complied with. Centerville is the home of the Hon. George W. Julian, and was the home of Hon. O. P. Morton, previous to his becoming Governor of the State.

Germantown, Ind., 4:05 a. m. A number of brilliant bonfires were burning, flags draped in mourning, and other evidences of sorrow exhibited.

Cambridge City, Ind., 4:15 a. m. As the funeral train reached this place, it was received with salvos of artillery. A very tasty arch spanned the railroad track. It was beautifully decorated and appropriately draped in mourning. The darkness was turned into a solemn glare by the burning of Bengal lights, and as the reddish blue met the first streaks of grey on the eastern