was surrounded by these people, who had treasured up the recollection of him caught from a photograph, and had looked up to him for four years as the one who was to lead them out of captivity.  It was a touching sight—­that aged negro kneeling at the feet of the tall, gaunt-looking man who seemed in himself to be bearing all the grief of the nation, and whose sad face seemed to say, ’I suffer for you all, but will do all I can to help you.’  Mr. Lincoln looked down on the poor creatures at his feet.  He was much embarrassed at his position.  ’Don’t kneel to me,’ he said, ’that is not right.  You must kneel to God only, and thank Him for the liberty you will hereafter enjoy.  I am but God’s humble instrument; but you may rest assured that as long as I live no one shall put a shackle on your limbs, and you shall have all the rights which God has given to every other free citizen of this Republic.’  It was a minute or two before I could get the negroes to rise and leave the President.  The scene was so touching that I hated to disturb it, yet we could not stay there all day; we had to move on; so I requested the patriarch to withdraw from about the President with his companions, and let us pass on.  ‘Yes, Mars,’ said the old man, ‘but after bein’ so many yeahs in de desert widout water, it’s mighty pleasant to be lookin’ at las’ on our spring of life.  ‘Scuse us, sir; we means no disrepec’ to Mars Lincoln; we means all love and gratitude.’  And then, joining hands together in a ring, the negroes sang a hymn, with the melodious and touching voices possessed only by the negroes of the South.  The President and all of us listened respectfully while the hymn was being sung.  Four minutes at most had passed away since we first landed at a point where, as far as the eye could reach, the streets were entirely deserted; but now what a different scene appeared as that hymn went forth from the negroes’ lips!  The streets seemed to be suddenly alive with the colored race.  They seemed to spring from the earth.  They came tumbling and shouting, from over the hills and from the water-side, where no one was seen as we had passed.  The crowd immediately became very oppressive.  We needed our marines to keep them off.  I ordered twelve of the boat’s crew to fix bayonets to their rifles and surround the President, all of which was quickly done; but the crowd poured in so fearfully that I thought we all stood a chance of being crushed to death.  At length the President spoke.  He could not move for the mass of people—­he had to do something.  ‘My poor friends,’ he said, ’you are free—­free as air.  You can cast off the name of slave and trample upon it; it will come to you no more.  Liberty is your birthright.  God gave it to you as He gave it to others, and it is a sin that you have been deprived of it for so many years.  But you must try to deserve this priceless boon.  Let the world see that you merit it, and are able to maintain it by your good works.  Don’t let your joy carry you into