Our victorious march from Chattanooga to Atlanta, was a military operation, whose successful close would have turned the heads of the French. It was made through a country presenting great natural obstacles, sufficient to deter a general of average qualities, and these natural defences the enemy had strengthened by a series of remarkable works, before each of which some generals would have paused to lay siege. But our leader, with the soldiers under his command, proved equal to every emergency, and the campaign ended with glory to our arms. Immediately after occupying Atlanta, Gen. Sherman posted the Army of the Tennessee, in the neighborhood of East Point; the Army of the Ohio, at Decatur, and retained the Army of the Cumberland to hold the city. Thus stationed we were permitted to enjoy the rest we so greatly needed. Although nearly all the inhabitants of Atlanta, whose circumstances permitted them to go, had left that city previous to its occupation by the Federal forces, yet a great many remained both by choice and necessity. It was determined to make a grand military post of Atlanta, and as one of the first measures to this end, General Sherman directed that all non-combatants must leave the city at once. He knew that the inhabitants of Atlanta could not subsist long in the city without the aid of the Government, and his line of communications was too long and precarious to permit him to divide the rations of his soldiers with citizens. He therefore issued an order commencing thus: "The city of Atlanta being exclusively for warlike purposes, will at once be vacated by all, except the armies of the United States, and such civilian employes as may be retained by the proper department of the Government." This order may appear to be harsh and vindictive, yet it was not only justifiable, but absolutely necessary. The mayor and two members of the city council of Atlanta, petitioned General Sherman to revoke it, to which petition he made the following reply, than which a more noble defense of his order, could not be made. As this letter of General Sherman's seems to us to be of more than common interest, and as it will undoubtedly be highly interesting to the reader who scans these pages, we will insert it here:

I have your letter of the 11th, in the nature of a petition, to revoke my orders removing all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it carefully and gave full credit to your statements of the distress that will be occasioned by it, and yet shall not revoke my order, simply because my orders are not designed to meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for the future struggles, in which millions, yea hundreds of millions of good people, outside of Atlanta, have a deep interest. We must have peace, not only in Atlanta, but in all America. To secure this, we must stop the war that now desolates our once favored and happy country. To stop war, we must defeat the rebel armies that are arrayed against the laws and constitution, which all must respect and obey. To defeat these armies we must prepare the way to reach them in their recesses, provided with the arms and instruments which enable us to accomplish our purpose. Now I know the vindictive nature of our enemy, and that we may have many years of military operations from this quarter, and therefore deem it wise and prudent to prepare in time. The use of Atlanta for warlike purposes is inconsistent with its character as a home for families. There will be no manufactures, commerce or agriculture here for the maintenance of families, and, sooner or later, want will compel the inhabitants to go. Why not go now, when all the arrangements are completed for the transfer, instead of waiting until the plunging shot of contending armies will renew the scenes of the past month? Of course, I do not apprehend any such thing at this moment; but you do not suppose that this army will be here until the war is over. I can not discuss this subject with you fairly, because I cannot impart to you what I propose to do; but I assert that my military plans make it necessary for the inhabitants to go away, and I can only renew my offer of services to make the exodus, in any direction, as easy and comfortable as possible. You cannot qualify war in harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war on our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to day than any of you to secure peace. But you cannot have, peace and a division of our country. If the United States submits to a division now, it will not stop, but will go on until we reap the fate of Mexico, which is, eternal war. The United States does and must assert its authority, wherever it has power, if it relaxes one bit to pressure, it is gone, and I know that such is not the national feeling. This feeling assumes various shapes, but always comes back to that of Union. Once admit the Union, once more acknowledge the authority of the National Government, and instead of devoting your houses, and streets and roads, to the dread usages of war, I and this army become at once your protectors and supporters, shielding you from danger, let it come from what quarter it may. I know that a few individuals cannot resist a torrent of error and passion, such as has swept the South into rebellion, but you can point out, so that we may know those who desire a government, and those who insist upon war, and its desolation. You might as well appeal against the thunderstorm, as against these terrible hardships of war. They are inevitable, and the only way the people of Atlanta can hope once more to live in peace and quiet at home, is to stop this war, which can alone be done by admitting that it began in error and is perpetuated in pride. We don't want your negroes, or your horses, or your houses, or your lands, or anything you have, but we do want and will have a just obedience to the laws of the United States. That we will have, and if it involves the destruction of your improvements, we cannot help it. You have heretofore read public sentiment in your newspapers that live by falsehood and excitement, and the quicker you seek for truth in other quarters, the better for you. I repeat then, that by the original compact of Government, the United States had certain rights in Georgia, which have never been relinquished, and never will be; that the South began war by seizing forts, arsenals, mints, custom houses, etc., etc., long before Mr. Lincoln was installed, and before the South had one jot or tittle of provocation. I myself have seen in Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee and part of Mississippi, hundreds and thousands of women and children, fleeing from your armies and desperadoes, hungry and with bleeding feet. In Memphis, Vicksburg and Mississippi, we fed thousands upon thousands of the families of rebel soldiers left on our hands, and when we could not see them starve. Now that war comes home to you, you feel very different; you deprecate its horrors, but did not feel them when you sent car loads of soldiers and ammunition, and moulded shell and shot to carry war into Kentucky and Tennessee, and desolate the homes of hundreds and thousands of good people, who only asked to live in peace at their old homes, and under the government of their inheritance. But these comparisons are idle. I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through union and war, and I will ever conduct war purely with a view to perfect and early success. But, my dear sir, when that peace does come, you may call on me for anything. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and your families against danger from every quarter. Now you must go, and take with you the old and feeble, feed them and nurse them, and build for them, in more quiet places, proper habitations to shield them against the weather, until the mad passions of war cool down, and allow the Union and peace once more to settle on your old homes at Atlanta.