a man’s life, and I go to bed happy as I think how joyous the signing of my name will make him and his family and his friends.”

Senator Harris, of New York, interceded for the reprieve of a young soldier, who was imprisoned at Elmira, N. Y., awaiting the sentence of death. His friends had been to the Secretary of War to intercede for the condemned young man; but the Secretary only replied,—

“Can do nothing for him; it is an aggravated case.”

True, it did seem like an aggravated case, for the fellow had deserted three times, and once attempted to poison his guards; but he had been of unsound mind. Evidence of his insanity was laid before Senator Harris, who became fully convinced that Executive clemency ought to save the soldier from death. It was twelve o’clock on Wednesday night when the senator went to the President, and the soldier was to be executed on Thursday. The President was in bed. A messenger was sent to his room to announce that Senator Harris desired to see him upon important business.

“Let him come in,” Mr. Lincoln said.

Senator Harris was soon at his bedside. “The boy is insane,” he said; “there can be no question about it,—an irresponsible lad, and his execution would be murder.”

“And you are satisfied that these are the facts in the case?” replied Mr. Lincoln, inquiringly.

“Perfectly so. Besides, it is not a pardon that we ask, but a reprieve until a medical examination can be made.”

“Well, that is reasonable and just,” responded Mr. Lincoln. “The boy shall be reprieved.”

He arose immediately, and ordered a telegram to be sent to Elmira at once delaying the execution of the condemned. Early in the morning he sent another. And before the hour of execution arrived he sent four telegrams by different lines, fearing that, by some misfortune, the reprieve might not reach him.

At another time, Judge Kellogg, of New York, interceded for the son of one of his neighbours, sentenced by court-martial to be shot the next day. It was near midnight when he reached the White House, and the President had retired. First, however, he went to the Secretary of War, thinking he might accomplish his purpose without disturbing the President.

“Too many cases of this kind have been let off now,” replied the Secretary; “it is quite time to make an example of somebody.”

“But there are reasons enough for pardoning him,” urged the judge; and he proceeded to enumerate them.

“Nevertheless, I shall not interfere,” still insisted the unmoved Secretary.

“Well, Mr. Secretary,” exclaimed the judge, under much excitement, “the boy is not going to be shot, you may be sure of that.”

He hurried away to the White House, where the sentinel intercepted him, saying:—

“My orders are to admit no one to-night.”

“But I must go in: it is a case of life and death,” urged the judge, persistently.

“That fact cannot modify my orders,” answered the sentinel.