Rest and recuperation,—how are they to be had? The first only by the relief of reinforcements; the second only by good diet and favorable hygienic circumstances. Eastern Virginia is all malarious,—the banks of James River notoriously so; the army is chiefly upon a moderately elevated, slightly undulating table-land; the river on the south side; swampy ground at no great distance on the other sides. It is open, airy, dry,—a healthful point, upon the whole, as any that could be selected east of Richmond. But the sun will lie exceedingly fierce upon it, and it is supposed the army has lost two thirds of its tents. Probably a majority of the men have lost also their knapsacks and blankets. Many were without caps or shoes. The area held is small, and will be crowded. If the enemy is active, as it would appear his policy to be, the officers will be too much occupied with the immediate military necessities of the position to give much attention to police duties. Even if they should be well disposed, the excessively fatigued and exhausted condition of the men, and the necessity of reserving their strength from day to day for the struggle with the enemy, will forbid the constant labor which would be necessary to prevent a terrible accumulation of nuisances, until at least reinforcements shall arrive so large that no more than the ordinary quotas will be required for guard and picket duty. After such tension and trial, a rapid reduction of force must also occur from sickness, and those not on the sick-list will suffer from the lassitude of reaction from excitement. Under these circumstances, all our experience shows that it will be hardly possible to enforce requirements, the observance of which must be essential to a healthy camp. Unless large reinforcements speedily arrive, then, not only must the army feel that its heroism is unappreciated, and the object for which it struggled is to be lost by the neglect of others, and thus become dejected, dispirited, and morally resistless to the dangers of disease; but it will be physically impossible to establish such guards against these dangers as are most obviously and directly called for. There is, in general, a large degree of confidence that, with the aid of the gunboats, which are throwing shell on the flanks at frequent intervals, we can hold the position till sufficient reinforcements come to place it beyond question; but no one speaks with entire confidence, and the nearer to the head the graver seems the apprehension,—though with all there is that strange exultation—ready to break out in laughter, like a crazy man's. There are some few who are utterly despondent and fault-finding. But there is less of this than ever before, and fewer stragglers and obvious cowards,—nothing like what was seen after Pittsburg Landing. Of what we saw after Bull Run there is not the slightest symptom. In short, we have then a real grand army, tried, enduring, heroic,—worth all we can give to save it.