The party that followed consisted of a lady and two gentlemen. She had come to ask that her husband, who was also a prisoner of war, might be permitted to take the oath and be released from confinement. To secure a degree of interest on the part of the President, one of the gentlemen claimed to be an acquaintance of Mrs. Lincoln; this, however, received but little attention and the President proceeded to ask what position the lady’s husband held in the Rebel service. “Oh,” said she, “he was a captain.” “_A captain!_,” rejoined Mr. Lincoln, “indeed!--rather too big a fish to set free simply upon his taking the oath. If he was an officer, it is proof positive that he has been a zealous rebel; I cannot release him.” Here the lady’s friend reiterated the assertion of his acquaintance with Mrs. Lincoln. Instantly the President’s hand was upon the bell-rope. The usher in attendance answered the summons. “Cornelius, take this man’s name to Mrs. Lincoln, and ask her what she knows of him.” The boy presently returned, with the reply that “_the Madam_” (as she was called by the servants) knew nothing of him whatever. The man said it was very strange. “Well, it is just as I suspected,” said the President. The party made one more attempt to enlist his sympathy, but without effect. “It is of no use,” was the reply; “I cannot release him;” and the trio withdrew, the lady in high displeasure. Next came a Methodist minister by the name of “G.,” claiming to be the son of the inventor of iron-clad gunboats. He had understood that the President appointed the hospital chaplains, and he greatly desired such a place. Mr. Lincoln replied rather curtly, that he could do nothing for him. “But I was told, sir, that these appointments were made by the President,” said the gentleman, very respectfully. “I will just tell you how that is,” was the answer; “when there are vacancies I appoint, not without.” The clergyman here alluded to his having left with the private secretary a war-sermon which he had lately preached. Stepping out, he returned with the pamphlet, saying, as he handed it to the President, “I suppose, sir, you have little time to read anything of this kind; but I shall be very glad to leave it with you.” Upon this he bowed himself out, and the sermon was carelessly tossed aside, never to be thought of again by Mr. Lincoln. Subsequently the sermon fell into my hands. The only thing I remember about it was the practical application of a professional incident. The clergyman one day fell in with two soldiers fighting. One had the other down, and was severely handling him. Rebuking the men, the one underneath responded very heartily, “Plase your _riverince_, I am willing to give up this minute, solely out of respect for your _riverince_.” And so the preacher thought the South should be made to say “in regard to the Constitution.” XIV.