Then cherished friends, long parted, That glorious morn shall meet; All washed from sins in Jesus’ blood, And in a Saviour’s love complete. And kindred souls, united, Their way to heaven shall wing; While, with their songs triumphant, The heavenly arches ring. According to instructions, on my return to Washington I stopped at Harrisburg, and spent three days in visiting the six hospitals in that city, looking up Michigan soldiers, and supplying immediate wants. Rebel wounded were scattered through all of these hospitals, faring the same as our soldiers. Entering into conversation with them, I inquired what hope of success the South had left, and their unanimous reply was, “Our cause is hopeless.” The Federal victories of July had well-nigh discouraged them. They expressed great surprise at the kind treatment they received; they had not expected this at the hands of the hated “Yanks.” At York, the city so disgracefully surrendered to the rebels a few months previous, there was but one hospital; it consisted of barracks built upon an extensive plan. While here, I visited the city cemetery, where about fifty of “the boys in white” were buried. As I stood by those turfless mounds, my heart was deeply pained, and I wondered that, in a large Northern city, no hand was found to plant a single flower upon a soldier’s grave. But though neglected, though without turf or flower, “On fame’s eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread, And glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead.” The 2d of September I took leave of my sick and wounded boys, of whom I found so many more than at Harrisburg, and returned to Washington, where the work of visiting hospitals in both that city and Alexandria was assigned to me, as Mrs. Brainard had not yet returned from Gettysburg, whither she was sent soon after the battles in July. My first visit was to Alexandria. Among the many whom I found in those hospitals was one peculiarly sad case. Near the centre of a large ward lay one whose motionless appearance attracted my attention; I noticed that he did not even make an effort to brush away the flies that were crawling over his face. On going to his cot I found that he was a complete paralytic; he could only move his head slightly and the little finger of one hand. This severe shock of paralysis was occasioned by striking his head against a stone while driving. He had then been in that condition several months, with very little perceptible change; but he was hopeful, and believed that he should get well. Poor boy! I often thought how true in your case the saying, “Were it not for hope, the heart would break.” During his stay at the hospital I saw but little change for the better, and never heard from him after he left it. I often think of the poor, pale-faced, patient, hopeful paralytic, and wonder what has become of him.