than one thousand of his effective men, of which number the killed and wounded were inconsiderable. It is known from our paroled officers, that during the investment and retreat, the enemy lost at least three hundred killed, and seven hundred wounded, while our casualties were not one fourth of that number.

Lee's army having escaped the army of the Potomac, was on its way to Pennsylvania. This check and delay of its onward march was important in its results. It was the first obstacle met by the invading host. It served to reveal the movements and the concealed purpose of the enemy, and enabled our army to pursue and counteract his designs. Had there been no such obstacle, the rebel army would have swept on unopposed into Maryland, and would have had three, or at least two more days of unobstructed license to revel in the spoils he sought. He might have reached Harrisburg, if such was his intention; and, at all events, he would have plundered and destroyed in a single day, far more than was lost at Winchester.

In the course of his testimony, General Schenck did not hesitate to say, that if he had been left to his own judgment in the control of the forces within his department, he would have concentrated them all at Winchester, with the view to meet and check the contemplated advance of Lee's rebel army, until the Army of the Potomac could have come forward to his relief. Undoubtedly this disposition of his command would have had a controlling influence on the rebel campaign of last summer, in Maryland and Pennsylvania. The movements of both armies would have been materially changed, and the result must have been modified accordingly. The invasion of the loyal States might have been altogether prevented, or it might have been rendered even more disastrous. Speculations of this kind as to movements which could have been made, are not of much value, inasmuch as they cannot alter the irrevocable past. Military operations are subject to so many contingencies, that it is impossible to conjecture with any certainty what results might have followed a different plan of campaign. Yet there could be no improvement in military science, and no benefit from disastrous experience, unless the errors of any particular movement may be pointed out and freely criticized. If General Schenck's idea had been adopted, and preparation made at Winchester to meet the advance of Lee's army, the movements of the Army of the Potomac would have been conformed to that arrangement, with coöperation between the scattered forces of the Middle Department and those under command of General Hooker. The campaign would have been in some measure under our control; whereas, in the actual circumstances, the enemy passed without opposition, except at Winchester, into Maryland and Pennsylvania, and selected his own field of operations. It was most fortunate, though almost fortuitous, so far as our army was concerned, that it had the good fortune to be posted as it was in the neighborhood of Gettysburg, with Cemetery Hill as the centre of our line. General Meade has all the credit and honor of having made the best disposition of his army, and carried it into the engagement with all the advantages of that magnificent position. But the selection of the battle ground was not the result of any strategy on our part. Doubtless the enemy's ignorance of the topography enabled Meade to occupy the favorable ground which gave him the great victory in Pennsylvania.

Both Major-Generals Schenck and Milroy are volunteer officers, raised from civil life to their present high position. The former has heretofore been mostly known as a politician of the Whig school, long a member of the national House of Representatives, and therein connected with the navy rather than the army. He has again been returned to Congress by his district in Ohio, and it is understood that he will soon leave his position in the army, carrying his honorable wounds into another field of service, where his usefulness to his country in this great crisis will not be diminished.

General Milroy has had the advantage of a military education, and has had much of that experience and training which are necessary to make an accomplished soldier. He graduated at the University of Norwich, Vermont—the same that sent from its academic halls the gallant and lamented General Lander, who died at an early period of the war. Whatever may be the character of that institution as a military school, under the shadow of the great reputation of West Point, it has at least the merit of having imparted to these two of its graduates an enthusiastic love for the profession of a soldier, and a perfect readiness, in a good cause, to meet its privations and dangers. At the commencement of the Mexican war, General Milroy raised a company in his native State of Indiana, and commanded it in the field until the expiration of its term of service. He was even more prompt in preparation for the present rebellion. Anticipating its occurrence, some time before its commencement, he undertook the organization of a company at Rensselaer, Indiana; and, in spite of the ridicule of such an undertaking, he persevered, and presented his company, one of the first to respond to the President's earliest call for volunteers. Thus entering the service as a captain, he has rapidly risen through the intermediate grades to his present position. He is not yet forty-eight, though his perfectly white hair would seem to indicate a greater age. But his red beard and whiskers contrast strongly with the snow on his head, and, together with a flashing bluish-gray eye, indicate the energetic and ardent temperament of unconquerable youth. Though not large in person, he is tall and erect, with a fine, soldierly form. His address is quick, and nervous to such a degree as to deprive him of even the ordinary fluency of speech. His want of words to express the thoughts that evidently burn within him, together with a remarkable diffidence among strangers, renders him incapable of making an impression, at first, proportionate to his real merit. He has, however, always enjoyed great popularity among his men, commanding their entire confidence, and has never failed to endear himself to his intimate companions. His heart has been earnestly with the Union, in the work of its preservation, from the beginning of the war; and whatever may be the disposition of the authorities toward him, his strong convictions and his active temperament will hardly permit him to remain idle during the deadly peril of the nation.

THE TWO SOUTHERN MOTHERS.

Heard you not the din of battle,
Cannon's roar, and musket's rattle,
Clash of sword, and shriek of shell,
Victor's shot, and vanquished's yell?

Saw you not yon scene of slaughter,
Human blood poured out like water;
Northern valor, Southern pride,
Stern resolve on either side?

Cheering on his flagging men,
Rallying to the charge again,
Comes a bullet, charged with grief,
Strikes the brave Confederate chief.

Down he falls, amid the strife,
Horses trampling out his life:
Scarce can his retreating force
Find and save his mangled corpse.

Home they bore him to his mother—
He was all she had—none other:
Woful mother! who can borrow
Words to paint her frantic sorrow?