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to send gifts to individuals, but by entrusting
them to capable and responsible agents in the
army, who can ascertain where the greatest
need exists, and meet it at once. The United
States Sanitary Commission had its origin in a
desire on the part of patriotic and enlightened
men, in addition to various other modes of im
proving the comfort and efficacy of the soldier
suggested by study and experience, so to or
ganize the collection and distribution of the
supplies which come from the homes of the
country, ns to make them productive of the
greatest possible real good to those for whom
they were designed.
How this institution, organized in a great
measure as to the details of its work by the
wonderful administrative capacity of Freder
ick Law Olmsted, Esq., lias succeeded in this
great novel task, the record of the progress of
the war abundantly shows. More than seven
millions of dollars’ worth of supplies, gathered
from the homes of the country, by means of
fifteen thousand tributary aid societies, scat
tered through nearly every hamlet and village
of the land, have been collected at common
centres, like Washington and Louisville, and
thence sent to the various armies in the field,
and distributed to the individual soldier as his
needs required. The testimony of all who
know any thing of the history of our armies,
from the illustrious General at their head down
to the humblest private in the ranks, is uni
form as to the ready, zealous and intelligent
conduct of the agents of the Commission in
the field, and the constant supplies of most
needed articles which they have ready for dis
tribution in every emergency. This work of
collecting and distributing supplies in the
army, it should not be forgotten, is only one of
many modes of relief bestowed upon the sol
dier ; but the operations of this single depart
ment have been attended with good results
which seem now almost marvelous. If the
army, when before Vicksburg, was in a more
satisfactory condition in regard to its general
health than ever before; if that fearful scourge
of all armies—the scurvy—was arrested and
finally driven out of the Army of the Cumber
land ; if the force which assaulted Fort Wagner
last summer was, to borrow the language of
General Gilmore, “ saved” by the free use of
anti-scorbutics, (and that such are historical
facts none can deny,) then it may be asserted,
with the utmost confidence, that these results
were due not to the provision made by the
Government to meet the emergency, but to the
wise foresight of the officers of the Sanitary
Commission, who, knowing that the emergency
must come, sent to each of these armies cargo
after cargo of vegetables and suitable food, and
were ready, in the hour of need, with this aid.
This provision saved thousands of lives, but,
it enabled us to retain possession of points of
the highest military importance.
[to bb continued.]
OtTB LT IU 1 Jl. lE.
IN THE WILDERNESS,
MAY 7rn, 1864.
BY GEORGE 11, BORER
[The incident contained in the following poem is nar
rated by a correspondent of the Now-York Tribune, in a
letter from the battle-field, dated “Wilderness, May 7,
Mangled, uncared for, suffering, through the night
With heavenly patience the poor boy had laiu;
Under the dreary shadows, left and right,
Untuned on the wounded, stiffened out the slain.
What faith sustained his lone
Brave heart to make no moan,
To send no cry from that blood-sprinkled sod,
Is a close mystery with him and God.
llut when the light came, and the morning dew
Glittered around him like a golden lake,
And every dripping flower with deepened hue
Looked through its tears for very pity’s sake,
He moved his aching head,
Upon its rugged bed,
Ami smiled, as a blue violet, virgin meek,
Laid her pure kiss upon his withered cheek.
At once there circled in his waking heart
A thousand memories of distant home;
01 how those same blue violets would start
Along his native fields, and some would roam
Down his dear humming brooks,
To hide in secret nooks,
And shyly met, in nodding circles swing,
Like gossips murmuring at belated Spring.
And then he thought of the beloved hands
That with his own had plucked the modest flower;
The blue-eyed maiden, crowned with golden bands,
W ho ruled as sovereign of that sunny hour.
She at whose soft command
lie joined the mustering band;
She for whose sake he lay so firm and still,
Despite his pangs, nor questioned then her will.
So, lost in thought, scarce conscious of the deed,
Culling the violets, here and there he crept
Slowly—ah! slowly—for liis wound would bleed;
And the sweet flowers themselves half-smiled, half-wept,
To be thus gathered in
By hands so pale and thin,
By lingers trembling as they neatly laid
Stem upon stem, and bound them in a braid.
The strangest poesy ever fashioned yet
Was clasped against the bosom of the hid,
As we, the seekers for the wounded, set
His form upon our shoulders bowed and sad;
Though he but seemed to think
llow violets nod and wink;
And as we cheered him, for the path was wild,
He only looked upon his flowers and smiled.
A sage has said that no Philadelphian is
perfect unless he pun. That a Philadelphia
newspaper may lack nothing of perfection, we
find a corner for the following:
Why is the “Great Central Fair” like the
Can’t you guess it ? Because it is the War-
Fare of brothers.
As all is fair in love as well as war, one of
our Daily Fairies suggests that each of the
Brothers in question would have “got along”
but lamely had it not been for the help of a—
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE METROPOLITAN
FAIR IN NEW YORK.
BY A WOUNDED SOLDIEB,
Our opening day, the 28th of March, came,
and we didn’t open. We wore not ready.
There was the Art Galleiy “not done,” there
was the “Arms and Trophies ” much behind.
Nothing but General Washington’s old clothes
were ready, and they suggested such unfavor
able comparisons with other and later heroes
that we preferred to keep them out of sight.
The Indians were, indeed, entirely ready, and
Mr. Biebstadt, poor man, said if he didn’t
open soon he should be exhausted, for he had
been on the war-trail a number of weeks,
seeking bis braves, not through tho jungles of
the forest, but through the more deadly laby
rinths of New York grog-shops. There was a
truly artistic mingling of colors among these
As I have begun backwards, perhaps I had
better continue in the same crab-like manner.
The Fair, for a month before it opened, had
become a monster, living on human flesh. It
demanded—like the Tarascon—a lady a day,
and a very well dressed lady at that ; but, as
we had a thousand ladies, and there were only
thirty days in the month, we had him at a
disadvantage; so one after another fell ill
disappeared, but the great work went on. Let
memory draw a veil over that week when,
after taking possession of the Fourteenth street
building, the ladies vainly struggled with the
carpenters, painters and builders, and, though
always foiled, never gave up the great supe
riority of woman! She never runs when she
is beaten, so she always succeeds.
And then the boxes from alji'oad, the im
possibility of any body’s getting anything out
of that grand repository, presided over by a
man whose ability in baffling inquiry and con
fusing your mind and keeping you from your
boxes, was Napoleonie. One of the artists,
waiting many days for a box of pictures to
complete the adornment of the Art Gallery,
said feelingly: “ Don't I hope I may some day
be somewhere where that man wants to get in!
Don’t I hope I may some day be somewhere
where he wants something, and won’t I lay logs
in his path! ” Let the sufferings of that week be
narrated, that in the Great Central Fair; if
you hove any sucli official who embarrasses
rather than forwards your work; dismiss him.
If he is the friend of your soul—if lie is your
long lost brother—if he has saved your life
turn him out at once, be merciless,—corpora
tions should have no souls.
Fortunately for the Executive Committee,
(who, I hear, had a very severe fight over it,)
the Fair was postponed to the 4th of April.
Fortunately, too, the week following the 28th
of March was very rainy, good for work, not
good for Fairings. The 4th came, as brilliant