ile Bay. It was
certain that Lee would soon have to evacuate Richmond only to fall into
the hands of Grant.

Lincoln saw the dawn of peace. When he came to deliver his second
inaugural address, it contained no note of victory, no exultation over
a fallen foe. On the contrary, it breathed the spirit of brotherly love
and of prayer for an early peace: "With malice toward none, with charity
for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right,
let us finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to
care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his
orphans, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting
peace among ourselves and with all nations."

Not long thereafter, General Lee evacuated Richmond with about half of
his original army, closely pursued by Grant. The boys in blue overtook
their brothers in gray at Appomattox Court House, and there, beneath the
warm rays of an April sun, the great Confederate general made his final
surrender. The war was over, the American flag was floated over all the
territory of the United States, and peace was now a reality. Mr. Lincoln
visited Richmond and the final scenes of the war and then returned to
Washington to carry out his announced plan of "binding up the nation's
wounds."

He had now reached the climax of his career and touched the highest
point of his greatness. His great task was over, and the heavy burden
that had so long worn upon his heart was lifted.

While the whole nation was rejoicing over the return of peace, the
Saviour of the Union was stricken down by the hand of an assassin.

WARNINGS OF HIS TRAGIC DEATH.

From early youth, Mr. Lincoln had presentiments that he would die a
violent death, or, rather, that his final days would be marked by
some great tragic event. From the time of his first election to the
Presidency, his closest friends had tried to make him understand that
he was in constant danger of assassination, but, notwithstanding his
presentiments, he had such splendid courage that he only laughed at
their fears.

During the summer months he lived at the Soldiers' Home, some miles from
Washington, and frequently made the trip between the White House and the
Home without a guard or escort. Secretary of War Stanton and Ward
Lamon, Marshal of the District, were almost constantly alarmed over
Mr. Lincoln's carelessness in exposing himself to the danger of
assassination.

They warned