and simple allegations, such as an accused person might reasonably be expected to be able to meet. On Monday, June 10, 1867, while the investigation before the Judiciary Committee of the House was still going on, while the sensation produced by the sight of Booth's diary and by Matthews' disclosures was still fresh, while the echoes of the encounter of Bingham and Butler still lingered in the air, the momentous trial came on. Great and unprecedented preparations had been made by the prosecution. Again the country was ransacked for witnesses, as in the palmy days of Baker and his men. Again the Montgomeries and other Canada spies haunted the precincts of the District Attorney's office, willing as ever to swear to anything necessary to make out the case for the prosecution. Even the voice of Conover was heard, _de profundis clamavi_, from his dungeon cell. The Bureau of Military Justice started into active life, and Holt and his satellites bestirred themselves as though fully conscious of the impending crisis. Indeed, every one of these officials, from the President and the Secretary of War down to the meanest informer and hired hangman, who had had anything to do with the trial and execution of Mary E. Surratt, felt as if he, too, was to be put on trial in the trial of her son. A Court recognized in, and drawing its life and jurisdiction from, the Constitution was to act as a court of appeal to review the process and judgment of that extra-constitutional tribunal, which had, summarily and without legal warrant, put a free American woman to a felon's death. A Daniel in the shape of a jury--a common law jury--a jury of civilians--unadorned by sword, epaulette or plume--a jury guaranteed by the Bill of Rights--a Daniel had come to judgment! The Shylocks of the days of arbitrary power dropped their sharpened knives and ejaculated, "Is that the law?" Great, assuredly, must have been the flurry of the once omnipotent Bureau, when it was ascertained that the tribunal before which it must come could not be "organized to convict;" that there could be no soldiery around the Court, no shackles on the prisoners or the witnesses for the defense, no prosecuting officers in the jury room. Everything must be done decently and in order, with the same calm dignity, unruffled composure, the same presumption of the innocence of the accused, as though the murdered man had been the humblest citizen of the land. One great advantage, however, the prosecution managed to secure. A Judge was selected to preside whom they could rely on, as "organized to convict." But this was the sole reminiscence of the unbridled reign of the military only two years before. A jury of twelve intelligent men, some of them the best citizens of the District, was speedily obtained to the evident satisfaction of both the people and the prisoner,--and the succeeding Monday, the 17th, the struggle began.