Look at this man just coming in at the door; it is poor Cuthbert; he does not belong in this ward, but he wanders where he likes. His is a sad case. A bullet struck him on the head, injuring his brain; at times he is perfectly himself, but usually his mind seems quite gone; it is truly pitiable to see him. His wife and little children are here in the city; she tells us that he was a most industrious, faithful workman, before he enlisted; honest and sober, and the kindest husband. We are very sure of his unselfishness, for no matter what we brought him to take, whilst he was confined to bed, his answer was always the same, “Give it to Bob;” or “Bob’s wounded, give it to him.” He rejected everything for himself with these words, fancying himself still on the field with his friend. We found, to our surprise, that “Bob” was none other than young Lieutenant ----, well known here, whom he had been nursing and watching most tenderly till he had received his own wound. The news of “Bob’s” death, which reached us soon after we arrived, would doubtless have been a great sorrow to him, but the poor fellow never could understand it; and we begged the men to say nothing about it, during his sane days, as we all wished him spared this additional suffering. He will get his discharge soon, but his poor wife will now have to support him, as well as her children. Surely a Soldier’s Home, for those disabled by this war, is one of the charities most imperatively demanded at present. I know that efforts are even now on foot to obtain it, but it is a thing which should, which must, be pressed. Why pause till we see it accomplished, and those suffering and thrown out of employment for life, provided with a home? Why rest till we have actually placed within its walls the army who have returned--many of them in the prime of life--maimed and mutilated, to our midst--cut off from all possibility of advancement for the rest of life--helpless, and too often hopeless? Shall we not show them that we can at least appreciate all that they have done for us?--that we can, and will gladly deny self, to give to them the home which their sufferings and self-sacrifice have so deservedly won? We need but the earnest purpose to secure its fulfilment, and I cannot feel that Philadelphia will ever rest till she has added to her generous labors in sending men forth, a liberal provision for the comfort and maintenance of the disabled, on their return.[3] [3] This was, of course, written before the establishment of the “Soldiers’ Home,” at the corner of Crown and Race streets.