One of his biographers has said that Grant went to Chattanooga with the reënforcements for which Rosecrans had vainly pleaded; that he went with two armies to the relief of the town. There was time enough, after Grant arrived, to have fought half a dozen battles before even the moral support of either of these forces was available for the relief of the army of the Cumberland. Sherman was struggling through a hostile country, battling with swollen rivers, broken roads, and the storms and tempests of November, a hundred miles away. Hooker was not in a position to lift a finger till the genius of Grant opened the way for his movement. Bragg might have swooped down from his mountain holds and stormed the intrenchments with an overwhelming force at any hour of the day or the night. We only wondered that he did not do it. But he held Lookout Valley, held the river, held the railroad above and below the town, and nothing but his perfect assurance that neither Hooker nor Sherman could get into Chattanooga before the garrison would be starved out prevented him from doing so. No! Grant fought the rebels alone during those five days--the darkest and most perilous in his career. If he had been beaten in the end, if Chattanooga had fallen before either of the two armies arrived, he would still have been entitled to the credit of his most heroic and self-sacrificing conduct. I repeat, it is not alone the brilliant lustre of his military deeds which calls forth our admiration: his patriotism, his unselfish devotion to the cause, entitle him to the highest place in the regards of the American people. Occasionally, in the current newspapers of the day, during the Rebellion, we read the astounding statement that General Fitzfizzle was under fire; that a shell exploded on the side of the river where he was; that his staff besought him not to expose his precious person to the deadly projectiles of the enemy. We are sensationally informed that General Fitzfizzle told his officers to retire to a safe place if they were afraid. General Fitzfizzle had evidently screwed his courage up to the sticking point, and during the long period of three whole minutes he was exposed to the bullets of the enemy--until, indeed, his presence was elsewhere required. We tender to General Fitzfizzle the homage of our grateful admiration. We feel that he was a brave man, for he has exposed his _corpus_ to the bullet of the foe. But what has he done for three minutes more than Private McMullen and Corporal Mullinstock have done during the entire battle? Is it heralded in the newspapers that by an effort he has exhibited the mere brute courage which has distinguished thousands of humble privates whose names will never be printed?