use, an example is given in the case of a surgeon
who suffered seriously from scurvy himself for
want of some of the vegetables which he was
conscientiously distributing to the enlisted men
under his charge. He had banished scurvy from
their tents, and it remained only among the
officers. " When he was directed to use them
for the officers also, as far as they needed them
medicinally, he expressed surprise and gratitude
both; for they supposed they were to be used
sacredly for the enlisted men." This is
something different to our ship-scurvy in trading
vessels, a fiend of the forecastle never seen in
the officers' cabin.

The following appeal " to all boys and girls
in the North," shows how the smallest
contributions to the health of the army, though but a
child's basket of blackberries gathered from the
roadside, have been sought and applied to their
right use: " Will your kind hearts and willing
hands work for the soldier? You may ask, what
can we do? You can work in your gardens and
fields, plant and cultivate potatoes, tomatoes,
cabbage, onions, &c. You can gather
strawberries, raspberries, currants, and blackberries,
and your mothers will can them. Your apples,
peaches, pears, and plums can be cut and dried,
and put in small bags, then these rich treasures
of your gardens, fields, and orchards, the pro-
ducts of your patriotic industry, sent to the
Soldiers' Aid Society, and thus to the U. S.
Sanitary Commission, will reach the soldier,
help him to get well, and cheer his heart."

The garden-making has its difficulties. Having
got the ground and the ploughs, to get a chief
quartermaster to spare teams for the ploughs
was found last spring no easy task at Chattanooga.
The ploughs were at last drawn by
convalescents from the sick among the horses,
and driven by convalescents from among sick
soldiers. A large vineyard, containing upwards
of fourteen thousand Catawba vines, was made
also to yield a hundred and thirty thousand
pounds of grapes.

But after all that is done, wounds and sickness
leave their lifelong scar on many thousands
of the huge armies engaged in this absorbing
struggle. A hundred thousand men broken in
health, or maimed of limb, have been by this
time thrown upon the country, and a question
of great moment for the Sanitary Commission
lias been, how should the country deal with this
large army of invalids? A committee of four
was appointed last March, "to consider the
subject of the organisation, location, and final
establishment of National Sanitaria for disabled
soldiers."

We add only three facts. The first is, that
up to the fourth of March, this year, the
Central Treasury of the Commission had been
supported by voluntary contributions to the extent
of one million one hundred and thirty-three
thousand six hundred and twenty-eight dollars.
Beyond this, the aggregate of the sums spent by
the numerous branch and aid societies in
purchase of stores, would amount to a yet larger
sum. The second fact is, that the U. S. Sanitary
Commission has a staff of two hundred men, who
receive on an average two dollars a day for
labour by which they could usually earn five or
ten times what they are content to take as bare
support, while they are performing a high duty
to their country. The twenty-one members of
the Board all give their time and services
gratuitously, and have refunded to them only a
part of their travelling expenses in the service
of the Commission. The third fact is, that as a
result of all this zeal, though of the immense
force engaged more than a hundred thousand
men have fallen in the field or died in hospital,
the average rate of mortality from sickness in
the armies, is, in spite of the vastly increased
difficulty of maintaining health, only a third of
what it was among the United States volunteers
in the Mexican war.

HIPPED IN HOXTON.

In walking about certain districts of this
great wilderness of brick and mortar, nothing
strikes me so much, or puzzles me so much, as
the vast number of first-class mansions London
contains. Leaving Belgravia, the acknowledged
head-quarters of wealth and magnificence, out
of the question, go to Bayswater, Brixton,
Paddington, Notting-hill, ay, even to modest
Camden-town, you may wander for miles among
houses of almost palatial dimensions. There is
no end of such houses; and as you pass them,
say about six in the evening, and catch a glimpse
of their well-appointed kitchens, where servants
are preparing elaborate dinners at blazing fires,
and behold spacious dining-rooms and snowy
damask and glittering plate, you will assuredly
fall to wondering who the people are who
occupy those grand houses, and above all, where
their money comes from? In all the districts
I have mentioned you may walk for hours among
houses whose occupiers must spend at the very
least a thousand a year; while many of them
must expend five times that amount. Now,
who are these people?—the thousands and tens
of thousands who inhabit those fine houses, and
drive their broughams and their carriages, and
are clad in purple and fine linen, and fare
sumptuously every day? They are too genteel for
brass plates; but if you make inquiries at the
greengrocer's in the back street, or at the public-
house in the mews, or of the page-boy tripping
along to order cream for the coffee, you will
probably learn that Brown lives in one, Jones in
another, Robinson in a third, Snooks in a fourth,
and so on. They are people you never heard of
before in your life, that no one ever heard of, or
ever will hear of out of the narrow circle in which
Brown, Jones, and Robinson move.

This annoys me sometimes, frets me, and
makes me—not envious, for I would not
exchange places with Brown or Jones for all the
wealth of the Indies—but discontented.

Suppose I were to say that I am a person
who has been heard of, that I have earned public
fame and public honour, and that if I were to mention