sympathy for Mrs. Lincoln is as wide-spread as the regret for the chief
magistrate. Whatever indiscretions she may have committed in the abrupt
transition from plainness to power are now forgiven and forgotten. She
and her sons are the property of the nation associated with its truest
glories and its worst bereavement. By and by the guests drop in, hat in
hand, wearing upon their sleeves waving crape; and some of them slip up
to the coffin to carry away a last impression of the fading face.

But the first accession of force is that of the clergy, sixty in number.
They are devout looking men, darkly attired, and have come from all the
neighboring cities to represent every denomination. Five years ago these
were wrangling over slavery as a theological question, and at the
beginning of the war it was hard, in many of their bodies, to carry
loyal resolutions, To-day there are here such sincere mourners as Robert
Pattison, of the Methodist church, who passed much of his life among
slaves and masters. He and the rest have come to believe that the
President was wise and right, and follow him to his grave, as the
apostles the interred on calvary. All these retire to the south end of
the room, facing the feet of the corpse, and stand there silently to
wait for the coming of others. Very soon this East room is filled with
the representative intelligence of the entire nation. The governors of
states stand on the dais next to the head of the coffin, with the varied
features of Curtin, Brough, Fenton, Stone, Oglesby and Ingraham. Behind
them are the mayors and councilmen of many towns paying their last
respects to the representative of the source of all municipal freedom.
To their left are the corporate officers of Washington, zealous to make
this day's funeral honors atone for the shame of the assassination. With
these are sprinkled many scarred and worthy soldiers who have borne the
burden of the grand war, and stand before this shape they loved in quiet
civil reverence.