safe to say, was Andrew Johnson adapted for the peculiar duties which Booth's pistol imposed upon him. One of Johnson's most unhappy, most ill-considered convictions was that our Civil War was a conventional old time rebellion—that rebellion was treason—that treason was a crime: and that a crime was something for which punishment should in due course of law be meted out. He, therefore, wanted, or thought he wanted, to have the scenes of England's Convention Parliament and the Restoration of 1660 re-enacted here, as a fitting sequel of our great conflict.
Most fortunately, the American people then gave evidence to Europe of a capacity for self-restraint and selfgovern-ment not traceable to English parentage, or precedents.
No Cromwell's head grinned from our Westminster Hall; no convicted traitor swung in chains; no shambles dripped in blood.
None the less Andrew Johnson called for indictments, and one day demanded that of Lee. Then outspoke Grant—general of the army.
Lee, he decl<