COMRADES OF THE GRAND ARMY: In coming before you this evening, I do not come with any expectation that I can say anything to interest or instruct you. But when Comrade Arnold called on me, last Friday, he supplemented his invitation with a statement that my acceptance would promote the object for which this fair is held, and thus aid Blue Post of the Grand Army of the Republic in securing a fund for the relief of destitute and disabled soldiers. I could not resist such an appeal. I am willing at all times to do what lies in my power for such a cause, and so, busy as I am just now, I came to your festival to bid you Godspeed in your noble work, and to give such assistance as I can in promoting it. It is sometimes asked why so many soldiers of the late war need help in the battle of life, and why appeals in behalf of the survivors of the Rebellion are growing more frequent as the years go by? Tens of thousands of soldiers, it is said, are on the pension rolls of the Government; the Nation has provided comfortable and pleasant homes for thousands who are disabled and destitute; and why should the generosity of the people be so frequently appealed to? Those who ask these questions simply fail to comprehend either the magnitude of the civil war, the vast number of men enlisted in the ranks of the Union Army, the hardships or privations to which they were exposed, the frightful legacy of wounds and disease their service entailed, or the time that has elapsed since their final muster-out. When these things are considered, the wonder will be, not that so many, but that so few of the soldiers of the Union need the helpful sympathy and assistance of their more fortunate comrades, and of all generous and grateful people. Nearly twenty-one years have come and gone since the war closed, and of the 2,700,000 persons enlisted in the Union Army, probably a million still survive. These men are all growing old. Few of them are under forty years of age; the vast majority, perhaps, are over fifty; and very many are nearing or past sixty years. Enfeebled by wounds or disease, they are year by year less able to bear their part in the great battle of life as bravely or as successfully as they did in the desperate struggle to preserve the Republic.