Abraham Lincoln was walking their streets; and, worst of all, that plain, honest-hearted man was recognizing the "niggers" as human beings by returning their salutations! The walk was long, and the President halted a moment to rest. "May de good Lord bless you, President Linkum!" said an old negro, removing his hat, and bowing with tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. The President removed his own hat, and bowed in silence; but it was a bow which upset the forms, laws, customs, and ceremonies of centuries. It was a death-shock to chivalry, and a mortal wound to caste. Recognize a nigger! Faugh! A woman in an adjoining house beheld it, and turned from the scene in unspeakable disgust. There were men in the crowd who had daggers in their eyes; but the chosen assassin was not there, the hour for the damning work had not come, and that great-hearted man passed on to the executive mansion of the late Confederacy. Want of space compels us to pass over other scenes,--the visit of the President to the State-House,--the jubilant shouts of the crowd,--the rush of freedmen into the Capitol grounds, where, till the appearance of their deliverer, they had never been permitted to enter,--the ride of the President through the streets,--his visit to Libby Prison,--the distribution of bread to the destitute,--the groups of heartbroken men amid the ruins, who beheld nought but ruins,--a ruined city, a ruined State, a ruined Confederacy, a ruined people,--ruined in hopes and expectations,--ruined for the past, the present, and the future,--without power, influence, or means of beginning life anew,--deceived, subjugated, humiliated,--poverty-stricken in everything. All that they had possessed was irretrievably lost, and they had nothing to show for it. All their heroism, valor, courage, hardship, suffering, expenditure of treasure, and sacrifice of blood had availed them nothing. There could be no comfort in their mourning, no alleviation to their sorrow. Forgetting that Justice is the mightiest power of the universe, that Righteousness is eternal, and that anything short of it is transitory, they planned a gorgeous edifice with Slavery for its corner-stone; but suddenly, and in an hour, their superstructure and foundation, crumbled. They grasped at dominion, and sank in perdition. FOOTNOTES: [I] I write from memory, not pretending to give the exact words uttered during the conversation. DOWN! (APRIL, 1965) Yard-Arm to yard-arm we lie Alongside the Ship of Hell; And still, through the sulphury sky, The terrible clang goes high,-- Broadside and battle-cry, And the pirates' maddened yell! Our Captain's cold on the deck; Our brave Lieutenant's a wreck,-- He lies in the hold there, hearing The storm of fight going on overhead, Tramp and thunder to wake the dead, The great guns jumping overhead, And the whole ship's company cheering!