But what shall we say of all those many regiments of colored men who were raised in many different States, and drilled and put in a state of readiness to march forward to the war, and assist in knocking down the tottering powers of old and bigoted Spain? Did those men do nothing for their country, after all their drillings and other mighty preparations for the purpose of going to the field? What was the use of Camp This, or Camp That, or Camp the Other Place to them? Either for good luck, or bad luck, as it turned out, all those camps were of no use at all to them. And it was just the same with the white volunteers and their camps. All, indeed, were drilled, and lay to be called away at any moment—all were in perfect readiness to go, and even very greatly desired to go; but few went, for their services were not required, as the war came to an end on the 12th of August, because "Old Spain" was fast going to the wall, as the Bible says of the wicked, "I will laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh." In fact, most that had been done in the war so far had been done upon the sea. Dewey and Schley had sunk Spain’s best war ships, which circumstance placed the Spanish peninsula entirely at our mercy. Then she was bankrupt and inferior to the United States in every way. We had lost 264 men in the war, who were killed outright; but how many thousands Spain lost, she is probably too proud ever to let us know. She probably lost at least fifty to our one. A great deal has been written about the hospitals in and around Santiago, and the conduct and sufferings of the patients who were treated there. It has been universally stated of the colored men who were treated for wounds that they were most exemplary and patient in every way, and even ready and willing to give way in favor of those white soldiers who lay side by side with them, waiting to be treated by the doctors on hand. It is really touching to read in the public papers how our own men insisted on their unfortunate suffering neighbors being treated first, and that they themselves would wait. "He is worse than I am, I can wait!"—and—"He is shot through the body, while I am only wounded in the arms; save him first!" This is the very essence of all generosity. This, indeed, is the most tender-hearted mercy and Christianity. If there is any bravery and nobility of character upon earth, this, indeed, is it. And the white Americans in the hospital were quite as generous as the colored men—to both their colored and white companions, according to the direct testimony and eye witness of foreign and domestic correspondents right there and then on the ground. There was no color line even dreamed of in the fields and hospitals of Santiago. It is only in the day of health and pride that people can afford to draw that line. But in the day of distress, and when death is hovering over us, then all that kind of foolishness is driven far away,