having lost my only chUd, a fine Girl of Fif
teen whose Death has overwhelmed myself and
my wife with unutterable sorrow.
I have now complied with your Request and
beg in my turn, you will commend me to all
my Friends in America. I have endeavoured
more than once to do the Colonies some ser-
vice, and am,
Sir, your very humble Scrv’t,
Ts. Smollett.
London May 8 1703.
Written to Rich’d Smith, Atty at Law, Recor
der of the City of Burlington.
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE METROPOLITAN
FAIR.-NO. 3.
BY A WOUNDED SOLDIER.
It was deemed fit that the Fair should bear
the honored name of John A. Dix as its Presi
dent, Absented in his military duties, he was
not able to attend personally to its details, but
we all felt that it succeeded better for having
the name of that unblemished statesman and
distinguished patriot at the fore.
Then, it was very fitting that in the chair
man we should have a name so commercially
and socially distinguished as that of General
Griswold Grey. Uniting in himself two of the
most respected families of New York and
Boston, it was very proper that Mr Grey
should take a prominent lead in this national
and New York enterprise. The zeal, patience
and ability which he displayed throughout its
progress, entitle him to a distinguished place
in the history of the Fair, and to the grati
tude of the .Sanitary Commission.
The distinguished literary qualifications of
the Secretary, Mr. Richard Grant White, a
name honored not only at home, but through
out reading Europe, were added to a strong
personal interest in the subject, to render that
gentleman’s arduous labors all they should be.
Of ladies it does not become me to speak.—
I should deserve to be a more wounded soldier
than I am, did I shock that modesty which
should over shroud the good deeds of women.
I must make one exception in the person of
the Vico President, Mrs. David Lane, who was
so emphatically the good genius of the Fair,
that her “doing good” must be recorded even
though she “blush to find it Fame.” Embark
ed in an unknown sea, with an untried crew,
this lady navigated her immense enterprise
through gales and deceitful calm, avoiding the
sunken rock and the whirlpool, “the storm,
the darkness and the deadly blow,” with an
ability which excited every one’s wonder; and
from the 29th of November, until the day when
she laid her splendid offering at the feet of the
Sanitary Commission, no one saw her temper
ruffled or her ingenuity baffled. She was
“ Queen o’er herself.”
Odb IDaily :e.
All the other officers and privates worked
well and faithfully. It would be invidious to
distinguish any. The ladies for once forgot
social cliques, religious differences, political
antipathies, and even the more solid insult
of prettier bonnets. An occasional flash from
the artillery of wit, a sort of birthday salute,
would happen now and then ; but it passed,
and the work went on.
One lady refused to bow to another. The
party who was cut said, mildly: “You must
forgive me if I forget and bow to you hereaf
ter. I assure you it will only be the force of
habit!” No. 1 bowed after that.
The Police behaved so well; but then they
always do, and a curious fact transpired;—■
These guardians of the public peace ate so
much ice cream and Charlotte Kussc! show
ing that valor does not grow by what it feeds
on!
Then Mr. Richard M. Hunt decorated the
Seventeenth street building with his own taste
and with his own money ! Charming combi
nation. Selfishness had gone to pay a visit,
we all thought, to the Emperor of the French:
(she will come back a great beauty next year);
for selfishness was nowhere to be found.
But it must be very stuped, while you arc
making history, to be reading it. Who wants,
at his own marriage feast, to be reading of
your or my wedding?
Lovely Philadelphia! you have a much
prettier building for your Fair than New
York had. Your knowing children came on
and profited by our failures, yet New York
forgives you. You have been so patriotic and
noble since the war began ! Who, like you,
has fed a hungry million of soldiers ? To
whom but you do we owe the noble institution
of the Loyal League ?
Who has written such stirring war lyrics as
your Poet? Who but your own true-hearted
daughter has written the best memorial of a
dead hero? And does not the world know
and love your Philanthropists?
Y'ou have given of your abundance, and old
William Penn ought to be proud of you.
Fair, eldest daughter of the Republic! beauti
ful in your Quaker cap and muslin ’kerchief,
true to your antecedents, we look to you to
preserve the almost forgotten tradition of ladies
and gentlemen.
Loyal and true Philadelphia! May your
Fair be the crowning Fair of all. It is meet
that on your sacred soil should the proudest
offering be raised to the glorious idea of Na
tional Unity, to the holy cause of Charity, and
of “Brotherly Love.”
THE SANITARY FAIR.
The Angel Mercy, in her flight,
Tu ‘.adder scene* her love to hear,
I'anseil, for an instant, o’er this work—
And smiled, and called it blessed lair.
DYING IN THE HOSi
[Written for Our Daily Fai
BY ELLEX MURRAY.
“ It well may he,” he said,
“Thiit wide though all my hreoz;
The huils of roses hasten forth,
The robins sing their sweetest tui
To welcome in the month of Jum
But, redder than the reddest rose
For me my country's banner glow
“I am content,” he said,
“ My father reads the news to-nig
Saying, ‘My child was in the ligh
My mother spreads the evening cl
And murmurs, ‘Were my boy hut
For me the fight its worst lias dot
Strange hands, my mother, nurse
“’Tis the Fair day,” he said,
“A stir is in the crowded street,
Amid the trees the thousands mecl
A thought of those who bleed and
Fills every heart, dims every eye;
For me, it is enough to know
Kind nurses past my bedside go.
“I am most blessed,” he swiil,
“Some of our men, beneath the si
Ilie slow ly on the field they woo,
Seme in the fuemen's prison pine
Lonmin,'' for Northern breeze and t
For me , my own true land has don
A mother's kindness for her son.
“And if I die/’ he said;
“There is no sweeter death to coni
Than death for freedom, land and 1
No country for which heroes hied,
Loves more tlmn ours its patriot dt
And I am over blest to bo
One of that well-loved company
“’Tis time to pray,” ho said,
“ For all should pray when death i.
And yet I do not feel a fear
To pray against; no wish, no will,
In (Sod's sweet presence lying still,
1 only pray for (Sod's great might,
To help my country and her right.
St. Helena , S. C.
THE LILY OF LOCH
[Written for Our Dally Fare.]
DY THOMAS DAILY ALDRICII.
She was very, very fair,
Like a Saiut in her blonde hai
Like Kaphael's Mad< mini,
With a certain shade of core,
And a glory breaking on her!
In the Kirkyard let her lie,
Let the thistles and the burrs
Cover up the two-fold life,
The sinless life, and her's,
God a’mercy on that day
When the grave gives up the Di
And the World shall pass away
Now Sir Bohan sails the sea,
Loud ho laughs above his wine,
And he never, never thinks
Of tlie Lily of Loch-Ine.
God a'mercy on that day
When the grave gives up the de
And the World shall pass away!