At last, the time arrived when the Sheriff of Kankakee had to drag me again as a criminal and a prisoner to Urbana, and deliver me into the hands of the sheriff of that city. I arrived here on the 20th of October, with my lawyers, Messrs. Osgood and Paddock, and a dozen witnesses. Mr. Abraham Lincoln had preceded me only by a few minutes from Springfield. He was in the company of Judge David Davis, since Vice-President of the United States, when I met him.

The jury having been selected and sworn, the Rev. Mr. LeBelle was the first witness called to testify and say what he knew against my character.

Mr. Lincoln objected to that kind of testimony, and tried to prove that Mr. Spink had no right to bring his new suit against me by attacking my character. But Judge Davis ruled that the prosecution had that right in the case that was before him. Mr. LeBelle had, then, full liberty to say anything he wanted, and he availed himself of his privilege. His testimony lasted nearly an hour, and was too long to be given here. I will only say that he began by declaring that "Chiniquy was one of the vilest men of the day—that every kind of bad rumors were constantly circulating against him." He gave a good number of those rumors, though he could not positively swear if they were founded on truth or not, for he had not investigated them. But he said there was one of which he was sure, for he had authenticated it thoroughly. He expressed a great deal of apparent regret that he was forced to reveal to the world such things which were not only against the honor of Chiniquy, but, to some extent, involved the good name of a dear sister, Madame Bosse. But as he was to speak the truth before God, he could not help it—the sad truth must be told. "Mr. Chiniquy," he said, "had attempted to do the most infamous things with my own sister, Madame Bosse. She herself has told me the whole story under oath, and she would be here to unmask the wicked man to-day before the whole world, if she were not forced to silence, ft home, from a severe illness."

Though every word of that story was a perjury, there was such a color of truth and sincerity in my accuser, that his testi

mony fell upon me and my lawyers and all my friends as a thunderbolt. A man who has never heard such a calumny brought against him before a jury in a court-house packed with people, composed of friends and foes, will never understand what I felt in this the darkest hour of my life. My God only knows the weight and the bitterness of the waves of desolation which then passed over my soul.

After that testimony was given, there was a lull, and a most profound silence in the court-room. All the eyes were turned upon me, and I heard many voices speaking of me, whispering, "The villain!" Those voices passed through my soul as poisoned arrows. Though innocent, I wished that the ground would open under my feet and bring me down to the darkest abysses, to conceal me from the eyes of my friends and the whole world.

However, Mr. Lincoln soon interrupted the silence by addressing to LeBelle such cross-questions that his testimony, in the minds of many, soon lost much of its power. And he did still more destroy the effect of his (LeBelle's) false oath, when, he brought my twelve witnesses, who were among the most respectable citizens of Bourbonnais, formerly the parishioners of Mr. LeBelle. Those twelve gentlemen swore that Mr. LeBelle was such a drunkard and vicious man, that he was so publicly .my enemy on account of the many rebukes I had given to his private and public vices, that they would not believe a word of what he said, even upon his oath.

At ten p. m., the court was adjourned, to meet again the next morning, and I went to the room of Mr. Lincoln with my two other lawyers, to confer about the morning's work. My mind was unspeakably sad. Life had never been such a burden to me as in that hour. I was tempted, like Job, to curse the hour when I was born. I could see in the faces of my lawyers, though they tried to conceal it, that they were also full of anxiety.

"My dear Mr. Chiniquy," said Mr. Lincoln, "though I hope, to-morrow, to destroy the testimony of Mr. LeBelle against you, I must concede that I see great dangers ahead. There is not the least doubt in my mind that every word he has

said is a sworn lie; but my fear is that the jury thinks differently. I am a pretty good judge in these matters. I feel that our jurymen think that you are guilty. There is only one way to perfectly destroy the power of a false witness—it is by another direct testimony against what he has said, or by showing from his very lips that he has perjured himself. I failed to do that last night, though I have diminished, to a great extent, the force of his testimony. Can you not prove an alibi, or can you not bring witnesses who were there in the same house that day, who would flatly and directly contradict what your remorseless enemy has said against you?"

I answered him: "How can I try to do such a thing when they have been shrewd enough not to fix the very date of the alleged crime against me?"

"You are correct, you are perfectly correct, Mr. Chiniquy," answered Mr. Lincoln, "as they have refused to specify the date, we cannot try that. I have never seen two such skillful rogues as those two priests! There is really a diabolical skill in the plan they have concocted for your destruction. It is evident that the bishop is at the bottom of the plot. You remember how I have forced LeBelle to confess that he was now on the most friendly terms with the Bishop of Chicago, since he has become the chief of your accusers. Though I do not give up the hope of rescuing you from the hands of your enemies, I do not like to conceal from you that I have several reasons to fear that you will be declared guilty and condemned to a heavy penalty, or to the penitentiary, though I am sure you are perfectly innocent. It is very probable that we will have to confront that sister of LeBelle tomorrow. Her sickness is probably a feint, in order not to appear here except after the brother will have prepared the public mind in her favor. At all events, if she does not come, they will send some justice of the peace to get her sworn testimony, which will be more difficult to rebut than her own verbal declarations. That woman is evidently in the hands of the bishop and her brother priest, ready to swear anything they order her, and I know nothing so difficult as to refute such female testimonies, particularly when

they are absent from the court. The only way to be sure of a favorable verdict to-morrow is, that God Almighty would take our part and show your innocence! Go to Him and pray, for He alone can save you."

Mr. Lincoln was exceedingly solemn when he addressed those words to me, and they went very deep into my soul.

I have often been asked if Abraham Lincoln had any religion, but I have never had any doubt about his profound confidence in God, since I heard those words falling from his lips in that hou of anxiety. I had not been able to conceal my deep distress Burning tears were rolling on my cheeks when he was speaking, and there was on his face the expression of friendly sympathy which I shall never forget. Without being able to say a word, I left him to go to my little room. It was nearly eleven o'clock. I locked the door and fell on my knees to pray, but I was unable to say a single word. The horrible sworn calumnies thrown at my face by a priest of my own church were ringing in my ears! my honor and my good name so cruelly and forever destroyed! all my friends and my dear people covered with an eternal confusion! and more than that, the sentence of condem. nation which was probably to be hurled against me the next day in the presence of the whole country, whose eyes were upon me! All those things were before me, not only as horrible phantoms, but as heavy mountains, under the burdens of which I could not breathe. At last the fountains of tears were opened, and it relieved me to weep; I could then speak and cry: "Oh! my God! have mercy upon me! thou knowest my innocence! hast thou not promised that those who trust in thee cannot perish! Oh! do not let me perish, when Thou art the only One in whom I trust! Come to my help! Save me!"

From eleven p. m., to three in the morning I cried to God, and raised my supplicating hands to his throne of mercy. But I confess to my confusion, it seemed to me in certain moments, that it was useless to pray and to cry, for though innocent, I was doomed to perish. I was in the hands of my enemies. My God had forsaken me!

What an awful night I spent! I hope none of my readers

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will ever know by their own experience the agony of spirit 1 endured. I had no other expectation than to be forever dishonored, and sent to the penitentiary next morning!

But God had not forsaken me! He had again heard my cries, and was, once more, to show me His infinite mercy!

At three o'clock a. m., I heard three knocks at my door, and I quickly went to open it. "Who was there? Abraham Lincoln, with a face beaming with joy!"

I could hardly believe my eyes. But I was not mistaken. It was my noble-hearted friend, the most honest lawyer of Illinois!—one of the noblest men Heaven has ever given to earth! It was Abraham Lincoln, who had been given me as my Saviour! On seeing me bathed with tears, he exclaimed, "Cheer up, Mr. Chiniquy, I have the perjured priests in my hands. Their diabolical plot is all known, and if they do not fly away before the dawn of day, they will surely be lynched. Bless the Lord, you are saved!"

The sudden passage of extreme desolation to an extreme joy came near killing me. I felt as suffocated, and unable to utter a single word. I took his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bathed it with tears of joy. I said: “ May God forever bless you, dear Mr. Lincoln. But please tell me how you can bring me such glorious news!"

Here is the simple but marvellous story, as told me by that great and good man, whom God had made the messenger of his mercies towards me:

"As soon as LeBelle had given his perjured testimony against you yesterday," said Mr. Lincoln, "one of the agents of the Chicago press telegraphed to some of the principal papers of Chicago: It is probable that Mr. Chiniquy will be condemned; for the testimony of the Rev. Mr. LeBelle seems to leave no doubt that he is guilty.' And the little Irish boys, to sell their papers, filled the streets with the cries: Chiniquy will be hung! Chiniquy will be hung!' The Roman Catholics were so glad to hear that, that ten thousand extra copies have been sold. Among those who bought those papers was a friend of yours, called Terrien, who went to his wife and told her that you were