I remember the first time we heard the tramp of the soldiers of the Twenty-sixth. As they were passing our door, some one of the family remarked, “We are safe now, for Michigan’s on duty.” Poor boys! some of them never knew what it was to perform a soldier’s duty, for they died before having an opportunity to strike one blow in defence of liberty--sacrifices, nevertheless, to the cause. One of their number, Ira Nash, was accidentally shot by a comrade the 6th inst., from the effects of which he died the 25th. During those weeks of suffering, he was a perfect embodiment of patience. He entertained no feelings of resentment toward his unfortunate comrade who was the cause of his untimely death, but freely forgave. His brother came on as soon as he heard of the accident, remained with him until he died, and then returned home with his remains to the young wife so soon left a widow, and the many friends who mourn their loss. Several of the Fifth Infantry wounded at Fredericksburg died during this, the first month of the year--three in one hospital, all belonging to the same company. The sister of one of these--Albert Foot--came to see him, and with sisterly devotion watched over him until failing health compelled her to return home. Others of the same, and other regiments, died in different hospitals, whose names space forbids mentioning. Oh, how often I thought of the friends in far-off homes when the lives of their loved ones were ebbing away. What would that fond mother have given to have taken the place of the stranger by the side of her dying boy; or that devoted wife, could she have wiped the clammy death-sweat from the brow of her departing husband; or that loving sister to have spoken words of comfort to cheer her soldier-brother through the “dark valley” or the affianced to have performed the last kind office of affection for the one “dearer than all others”?... The month of February witnessed a great decrease in the number of patients in our hospitals, some having been discharged, others returned to duty, a few were transferred, while death removed its multitudes.