The knowledge of the terrible calamity which had befallen the nation was rigidly withheld from Mr. Seward at the time, his physician fearing that the shock would be too great for him to bear. The Sunday following, he had his bed wheeled around so that he could see the tops of the trees in the park opposite his residence,--just putting on their spring foliage,--when his eyes caught sight of the Stars and Stripes at half-mast on the War Department, on which he gazed awhile, then turning to his attendant, said: “The President is dead!” The confused attendant stammered as he tried to say nay; but the Secretary could not be deceived. “If he had been alive, he would have been the first to call on me,” he continued; “but he has not been here, nor has he sent to know how I am; and there is the flag at half-mast.” The statesman’s inductive reason had discerned the truth, and in silence the great tears coursed down his gashed cheeks, as it sank into his heart. LXXII. At the Cabinet meeting held the morning of the day of the assassination, it was afterward remembered, a remarkable circumstance occurred. General Grant was present, and during a lull in the discussion the President turned to him and asked if he had heard from General Sherman. General Grant replied that he had not, but was in hourly expectation of receiving despatches from him announcing the surrender of Johnston. “Well,” said the President, “you will hear very soon now, and the news will be important.” “Why do you think so?” said the General. “Because,” said Mr. Lincoln, “I had a dream last night; and ever since the war began, I have invariably had the same dream before any important military event occurred.” He then instanced Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg, etc., and said that before each of these events, he had had the same dream; and turning to Secretary Welles, said: “It is in your line, too, Mr. Welles. The dream is, that I saw a ship sailing very rapidly; and I am sure that it portends some important national event.” Later in the day, dismissing all business, the carriage was ordered for a drive. When asked by Mrs. Lincoln if he would like any one to accompany them, he replied, “No; I prefer to ride by ourselves to-day.” Mrs. Lincoln subsequently said that she never saw him seem so supremely happy as on this occasion. In reply to a remark to this effect, the President said: “And well I may feel so, Mary, for I consider this day the war has come to a close.” And then added: “We must both be more cheerful in the future; between the war and the loss of our darling Willie, we have been very miserable.” * * * * *