of Mr. Lincoln
, and he granted it “speedily-without delay; freely — without purchase; and fully without denial.”
I remained in Washington
for several days after this, and, notwithstanding the pressure of business, he made me spend a good portion of the time at the White House
. One thing he could scarcely cease from referring to was the persistence of the office-seekers.
They slipped in, he said, through the half-opened doors of the Executive Mansion
; they dogged his steps if he walked; they edged their way through the crowds and thrust their papers in his hands when he rode;1
and, taking it all in all, they well-nigh worried him to death.
He said that, if the Government
passed through the Rebellion
without dismemberment, there was the strongest danger of its falling a prey to the rapacity of the office-seeking class.
“This human struggle and scramble for office,” were his words, “for a way to live without work, will finally test the strength of our institutions.”
A good part of the day during my stay I would spend with him in his office or waiting-room.
I saw the endless line of callers, and met the scores of dignitaries one usually meets at the White House
, even now; but nothing took place worthy of special mention here.
One day Horace Maynard
and Andrew Johnson
, both senators from Tennessee
, came in arm-in-arm.
They declined to sit down, but at