In common with many friends, she warned him one day against rebels in Washington who might assassinate him, when he replied,—

“I am in God’s hand; let Him do with me what seemeth good to Him.”

He possessed his mother’s old Bible, which he read so much in his boyhood, and he was wont to read it daily, usually just before he look his lunch. He would throw himself upon the lounge, and read a few moments. One day Mrs. Pomroy entered his office while he was thus reading on the lounge.

“What portion of the Bible do you like best, Mrs. Pomroy?” he inquired.

“The Psalms are my favourite,” Mrs. Pomroy answered.

“Yes, the Psalms have something for every day in the week, and something for every poor fellow like me,” he responded.

He was accustomed to carry his mother’s Bible back and forth from the Soldiers’ Home, preferring to read from it rather than use another. Speaking of that Bible once, he added, “I had a good Christian mother, and her prayers have followed me thus far through life.” Captain Mix, who was often in the family, says:—“Many times have I listened to our most eloquent preachers, but never with the same feeling of awe and reverence as when our Christian President, his arm around ‘Tad,’ with his deep earnest tone, each morning read a chapter from the Bible.”

He inquired very minutely into the method of speaking with sick and dying soldiers—what she said to them—how they answered her—how many of them became Christians? He accompanied her many times to the hospital and witnessed her effective management, and talked with the soldiers and encouraged them. On learning that the managers of the hospital, who were Roman Catholics, had forbidden the Protestant nurses to pray with the soldiers, or read the Bible to them, he promptly removed the restriction, and allowed the Christian women henceforth to hold prayer-meetings, read the Bible to the “boys,” and pray with them as much as they pleased, adding: “If there was more praying and less swearing it would be far better for our country, and we all need to be prayed for, officers as well as privates, and if I was near death I think I should like to hear prayer.”

He took a lady to the Soldiers’ Home in his carriage one morning with Mrs. Pomroy, and the horses became well-nigh unmanageable just where the severe shower of the previous night had flooded the road. The ladies were very much frightened, and Mr. Lincoln directed the driver to hold one of the horses and the footman the other, while he opened the door and jumped out. Stripping up his pants to his knees, he hastily brought three stones large enough to stand upon, and placing them so that the ladies could step upon them, from one to the other, he speedily helped them to the side-walk, remarking in a vein of humour, “All through life be sure you put your feet in the right place, and then stand firm.” Then, looking down upon his very muddy boots, he said:—“I have always heard of Washington mud, and now I shall take home some as a sample.”

We have given somewhat in detail these incidents from Mrs. Pomroy’s experience, because they present so clear a view of the man. His simplicity, tenderness, affection, frankness, freedom from pride and ostentation, trust in Providence, and strong religious convictions,—all appear unmistakably in these incidents that cluster about his stay in the White House and Soldiers’ Home.

Willie died on Thursday, and on the recurrence of that day, for several weeks, Mr. Lincoln shut himself up in his room and indulged in excessive grief. Near friends spoke to Dr. Vinton of New York, who was visiting at Washington, of this practice, and urged him to see the President. Accordingly he called upon him, and told him frankly that it was sinful to indulge in such grief.

“Your son is alive in Paradise,” said Dr. Vinton.