Splinters of boards, torn by shot and shell from the fences we had crossed, served as headstones, each name hurriedly carved under brief match lights, anxiously hidden from the foe. It was a strange scene around that silent and shadowy sepulchre. “We will give them a starlight burial,” it was said; but heaven ordained a more sublime illumination. As we bore them in dark and sad procession, their own loved north took up the escort, and lifting all her glorious lights, led the triumphal march over the bridge that spans the worlds--an aurora borealis of marvelous majesty! Fiery lances and banners of blood and flame, columns of pearly light, garlands and wreaths of gold, all pointing upward and beckoning on. Who would not pass on as they did, dead for their country’s life, lighted to burial by the meteor splendor of their native sky? PRESIDENT LINCOLN AND THE SOLDIERS. The soldiers who were bearing the heat and burden of the war always held a near place in Mr. Lincoln’s heart and sympathy. Upon one occasion, when he had just written a pardon for a young soldier who had been condemned by court-martial to be shot for sleeping at the post as a sentinel, Mr. Lincoln remarked: “I could not think of going into eternity with the blood of that poor young man on my skirts. It is not to be wondered at that a boy raised on a farm, probably in the habit of going to bed at dark, should, when required to watch, fall asleep; and I cannot consent to shoot him for such an act.” The Rev. Newman Hall, in his funeral sermon upon Mr. Lincoln, said that this young soldier was found dead on the field of Fredericksburg with Mr. Lincoln’s photograph next to his heart, on which he had inscribed, “God bless President Lincoln.” At another time there were twenty-four deserters sentenced to be shot, and the warrants for their execution were sent to the President to be signed. He refused, and the general of the division went to Washington to see Mr. Lincoln. At the interview he said to the President that unless these men were made an example of, the army itself would be in danger. Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many. But Mr. Lincoln replied: “There are already too many weeping widows in the United States. For God’s sake don’t ask me to add to the number, for I won’t do it.” “I am astonished at you, Ward,” said Mr. Lincoln; “you ought to have known better. Hereafter, when you have to hit a man, use a club and not your fist.” A WOMAN’S COURAGE AT GETTYSBURG.