said the policeman, and, sure
enough, suddenly the dread word "theatre" was tossed into the air, and
everyone was still in a moment, waiting for--what? I don't know what they
hoped for, I do know what many feared; but this is what he said: "Yes,
look over at our theatre and think of the little body of men and women
there, who are to-day sore-hearted and cast down, who feel that they are
looked at askant, because one of their number has committed that hideous
crime! Think of what they have to bear of shame and horror, and spare
for them, too, a little pity!"

He paused; it had been a bold thing to do--to appeal for consideration
for actors at such a time. The crowd swayed for a moment to and fro, a
curious growling came from it, and then all heads turned toward the
theatre. A faint cheer was given, and after that there was not the
slightest allusion made to us--and verily we were grateful.

That the homely, tender-hearted "Father Abraham," rare combination of
courage, justice, and humanity, died at an actor's hand will be a grief,
a horror, and a shame to the profession forever--yet I cannot believe
that John Wilkes Booth was "the leader of a band of bloody conspirators!"

Who shall draw a line and say: here genius ends and madness begins? There
was that touch of "strangeness." In Edwin Booth it was a profound
melancholy; in John it was an exaggeration of spirit, almost a wildness.
There was the natural vanity of the actor, too, who craves a dramatic
situation in real life. There was his passionate love and sympathy for
the South--why, he was "easier to be played on than a pipe!"

Undoubtedly he conspired to kidnap the President--that would appeal to
him, but after that I truly believe he was a tool, certainly he was no
leader. Those who led him knew his courage, his belief in fate, his
loyalty to his friends; and because they knew these things, he drew the
lot, as it was meant he should from the first. Then, half mad, he
accepted the part Fate cast him for--committed the monstrous crime and
paid the awful price.

And since,

"God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform,"

we venture to pray for His mercy upon the guilty soul! who may have
repented and confessed his manifold sins and offences during those awful
hours of suffering before the end came.

And "God shutteth not up His mercies forever in displeasure!" We can only
shiver and turn our thoughts away from the bright light that went ou