“I was waiting my turn to speak to the President one day, when my attention was attracted by the sad patient face of a woman advanced in life, who in a faded hood and shawl was among the applicants for an interview.

“Presently Mr. Lincoln turned to her, saying in his accustomed manner, ‘Well, my good woman, what can I do for you this morning?’ ‘Mr. President,’ said she, ‘my husband and three sons all went into the army. My husband was killed in the fight at—. I get along very badly since then, living all alone, and I thought I would come and ask you to release to me my oldest son.’ Mr. Lincoln looked into her face a moment, and in his kindest accents responded, ‘Certainly! certainly! If you have given us all, and your prop has been taken away, you are justly entitled to one of your boys!’ He immediately made out an order discharging the young man, which the woman took, and thanking him gratefully, went away.

“I had forgotten the circumstance,” continued M—, “till last week, when happening to be here again, who should come in but the same woman. It appeared that she had gone herself to the front, with the President’s order, and found the son she was in search of had been mortally wounded in a recent engagement, and taken to a hospital. She found the hospital, but the boy was dead, or died while she was there. The surgeon in charge made a memorandum of the facts upon the back of the President’s order, and almost broken-hearted, the poor woman had found her way again into Mr. Lincoln’s presence. He was much affected by her appearance and story, and said: ‘I know what you wish me to do now, and I shall do it without your asking; I shall release to you your second son.’ Upon this, he took up his pen and commenced writing the order. While he was writing the poor woman stood by his side, the tears running down her face, and passed her hand softly over his head, stroking his rough hair, as I have seen a fond mother caress a son. By the time he had finished writing, his own heart and eyes were full. He handed her the paper: ‘Now,’ said he, ‘you have one and I one of the other two left: that is no more than right.’ She took the paper, and reverently placing her hand again upon his head, the tears still upon her cheeks, said: ‘The Lord bless you, Mr. Lincoln May you live a thousand years, and may you always be the head of this great nation!”’

The Hon. Thaddeus Stevens accompanied an elderly lady to the President, to ask for the pardon of her son, who had been sentenced to death by a court-martial. Mr. Stevens knew that there were circumstances on which pardon could be reasonably based. After the President had listened to the woman’s story, he turned to Mr. Stevens.

“Mr. Stevens, do you think this is a case that will warrant my interference?”

“Yes; I should have no hesitation in granting a pardon,” Mr. Stevens replied.

“Then I will pardon him,” and he proceeded to execute the papers. The mother’s heart was too full for utterance. Her deep emotion, as she turned away, told how deep her gratitude was. On the way downstairs, when she could sufficiently control her feelings to speak, she broke out suddenly:—

“I knew it was a copperhead lie!”

“What do you refer to, madam?” iuquired Mr. Stevens.

“Why, they told me he was an ugly-looking man, and it’s a lie. He is the handsomest man I ever saw in my life.”

Speaker Colfax interceded for the pardon of a son of one of his constituents, who had been sentenced to be shot. It was in the evening, and Mr. Lincoln was wearied by incessant calls, and wanted rest. He granted the request of Mr. Colfax, and said,—

“Some of our generals complain that I impair discipline and subordination in the army by my pardons and respites, but it makes me rested, after a hard day’s work, if I can find some good excuse for saving