March 6.—I have been up to look at the dance and supper-rooms, for the inauguration ball at the Patent office; and I could not help thinking, what a different scene they presented to my view a while since, fill'd with a crowded ma** of the worst wounded of the war, brought in from second Bull Run, Antietam, and Fredericksburgh. To-night, beautiful women, perfumes, the violin's sweetness, the polka and the waltz; then the amputation, the blue face, the groan, the gla**y eye of the dying, the clotted rag, the odor of wounds and blood, and many a mother's son amid strangers, pa**ing away untended there, (for the crowd of the badly hurt was great, and much for nurse to do, and much for surgeon.)