into view, for a new and stylish hat.  It was evidently President Lincoln, whom neither of us had seen before.  As soon as his presence was known, the hall was thronged from the drawing-rooms.  He seemed somewhat startled by the crowd, did not remove his hat, wended his way somewhat rapidly and with mere passing recognition, and took shelter in his room.  When the crowd had dispersed, my friend and myself—­although we had opposed his election—­called upon him to pay our respects.  He received us with great cordiality, spoke freely of the difficulties by which he was surrounded, and referred with evident satisfaction to the support he had received in Massachusetts.  ‘I like your man Banks,’ said he, ’and have tried to find a place for him in my Cabinet; but I am afraid I shall not quite fetch it.’  He bore the marks of anxiety in his countenance, which, in its expression of patience, determination, resolve, and deep innate modesty, was extremely touching.”

Before leaving Springfield Lincoln had prepared his inaugural message with great care, and placed it in a “gripsack” for transportation to Washington.  An odd incident, by which the message came near being lost on the journey, was afterwards related by Lincoln to a friend.  When the party reached Harrisburg Lincoln asked his son Robert where the message was, and was taken aback by his son’s confession that in the excitement caused by the enthusiastic reception he believed he had let a waiter have the gripsack.  Lincoln, in narrating the incident, said:  “My heart went up into my mouth, and I started downstairs, where I was told that if a waiter had taken the gripsack I should probably find it in the baggage-room.  Going there, I saw a large pile of gripsacks and other baggage, and thought that I discovered mine.  My key fitted it, but on opening there was nothing inside but a few paper collars and a flask of whisky.  A few moments afterward I came across my own gripsack, with the document in it all right.”

The fourth of March soon came, and with it the impressive ceremonies of Lincoln’s inauguration as President.  A good description of the scene is given by Dr. J.G.  Holland.  “The morning broke beautifully clear, and it found General Scott and the Washington police in readiness.  In the hearts of the surging crowds there was anxiety; but outside all looked as usual on such occasions, with the exception of an extraordinary display of soldiers.  The public buildings, the schools, and most of the places of business, were closed during the day, and the stars and stripes were floating from every flag-staff.  There was a great desire to hear Lincoln’s inaugural; and at an early hour Pennsylvania Avenue was full of people wending their way to the east front of the Capitol where it was to be delivered.  As the Presidential party reached the platform erected for the ceremonies, Senator Baker of Oregon, one of Lincoln’s old friends and political rivals in Illinois, introduced him to the assembly.  There was not a very hearty welcome given to the President as he stepped forward to read his inaugural.  The reading was listened to with profound attention, those passages which contained any allusion to the Union being vociferously cheered.  None listened more carefully than Mr. Buchanan and Judge Taney, the latter of whom, with noticeable agitation, administered the oath of office to Mr. Lincoln when his address was ended.”