There was a pause, a hush, as it were. At this period came the death of Abraham Lincoln.

Great as that was, with all its manifold train circling around it, and stretching into the future for many a century, in the politics, history, art, etc., of the New World, in point of fact, the main thing, the actual murder, transpired with the quiet and simplicity of any commonest occurrence-the bursting of a bud or pod in the growth of vegetation, for instance.

Through the general hum following the stage pause, with the change of positions, etc., came the muffled sound of a pistol shot, which not one-hundredth part of the audience heard at the time-and yet a moment's hush-somehow, surely a vague, startled thrill-and then, through the ornamented, draperied, starred and striped space-way of the President's box, a sudden figure, a man, raises himself with hands and feet, stands a moment on the railing, leaps below to the stage (a distance, perhaps, of fourteen or fifteen feet), falls out of position, catching his boot-heel in the copious drapery (the American flag), falls on one knee, quickly recovers himself, rises as if nothing had happened (he really sprains his ankle, unfelt then)—and the figure, Booth, the murderer, dressed in plain black broadcloth, bareheaded, with a full head of glossy, raven hair, and his eyes, like some mad animal's, flashing with light and resolution, yet with a certain strange calmness, holds aloft in one hand a large knife-walks along not much back of the footlights-turns fully towards the audience his face of statuesque beauty, lit by those basilisk eyes, flashing with desperation, perhaps insanity-launches out in a firm and steady voice the words, "Sic semper tyrannis"-and then walks

with neither slow nor very rapid pace diagonally across to the back of the stage, and disappears.

(Had not all this terrible scene-making the mimic ones preposterous-had it not all been rehearsed, in blank, by Booth, beforehand?)

A moment's hush, incredulous-a scream-a cry of murder-Mrs. Lincoln leaning out of the box, with

ashy cheeks and lips, with involuntary cry, pointing to the retreating figure, "He has killed the President!"

And still a moment's strange, incredulous suspense -and then the deluge!-then that mixture of horror, noises, uncertainty-the sound, somewhere back, of a horse's hoofs clattering with speed-the people burst through chairs and railings, and break them up-that noise adds to the queerness of the scene-there is

inextricable confusion and terror-women faint-quite feeble persons fall, and are trampled on-many cries of agony are heard-the broad stage suddenly fills to suffocation with a dense and motley crowd, like some horrible carnival-the audience rush generally upon it -at least the strong men do-the actors and actresses are there in their play costumes and painted faces, with mortal fright showing through the rouge-some trembling, some in tears-the screams and calls, confused talk-redoubled, trebled-two or three manage to pass up water from the stage to the President's box, others try to clamber up, etc., etc.

In the midst of all this the soldiers of the President's Guard, with others, suddenly drawn to the scene, burst in-some 200 altogether-they storm the house, through all the tiers, especially the upper onesinflamed with fury, literally charging the audience with fixed bayonets, muskets and pistols, shouting, "Clear out! clear out! you sons of b!"

Such a wild scene, or a suggestion of it rather, inside the playhouse that night!

Outside, too, in the atmosphere of shock and craze, crowds of people filled with frenzy, ready to seize any outlet for it, came near committing murder several times on innocent individuals.

One such case was particularly exciting. The infuriated crowd, through some chance, got started against one man, either for words he uttered, or perhaps without any cause at all, and were proceeding to hang him at once to a neighboring lamp-post, when he was rescued by a few heroic policemen, who placed him in their midst and fought their way slowly and amid great peril toward the station-house.

It was a fitting episode of the whole affair. The crowd rushing and eddying to and fro, the night, the yells, the pale faces, many frightened people trying in vain to extricate themselves, the attacked man, not yet freed from the jaws of death, looking like a corpse; the silent, resolute half-dozen policemen, with no weapons but their little clubs; yet stern and steady through all those eddying swarms; made, indeed, a fitting side scene to the grand tragedy of the murder. They gained the station-house with the protected man, whom they placed in security for the night, and discharged in the morning.

And in the midst of that night pandemonium of senseless hate, infuriated soldiers, the audience and the crowd-the stage, and all its actors and actresses, its paint pots, spangles, gas-light-the life-blood from those veins, the best and sweetest of the land, drips slowly down, and death's ooze already begins its little bubbles on the lips.

Such, hurriedly sketched, were the accompaniments of the death of President Lincoln. So suddenly, and in murder and horror unsurpassed, he was taken from But his death was painless.

us.

REWARD OFFERED BY SECRETARY STANTON.

War Department, Washington, April 20, 1865.

Maj.-Gen. John A. Dix, New York:

The murderer of our late beloved President, Abraham Lincoln, is still at large. Fifty thousand dollars reward will be paid by this Department for his apprehension in addition to any reward offered by municipal authorities or State Executives.

Twenty-five thousand dollars reward will be paid for the apprehension of G. A. Atzerodt, sometimes called "Port Tobacco," one of Booth's accomplices. Twentyfive thousand dollars reward will be paid for the apprehension of David C. Harold, another of Booth's accomplices. A liberal reward will be paid for any information that shall conduce to the arrest of either the above-named criminals or their accomplices. All persons harboring or secreting the said persons, or either of them, or aiding or assisting their concealment or escape, will be treated as accomplices in the murder of the President and the attempted assassination of the Secretary of State, and shall be subject to trial before a military commission, and the punishment of death.

Let the stain of innocent blood be removed from the land by the arrest and punishment of the murderers.

All good citizens are exhorted to aid public justice on this occasion. Every man should consider his own conscience charged with this solemn duty, and rest neither night nor day until it be accomplished.

EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War.

INDICTMENT OF THE CONSPIRATORS-CHARGES AND

SPECIFICATIONS.

The following is a copy of the charges and specifications against David E. Harold, George A. Atzerodt, Lewis Payne, Michael O'Laughlin, John H. Surratt, Edward Spangler, Samuel Arnold, Mary E. Surratt, and Samuel Mudd:

Charge 1st. For maliciously, unlawfully, and traitorously, and in aid of the existing armed rebellion against