NAMES OF DEAD AT PESHTIGO AS FAR AS YET ASCERTAINED

J. E. Beebee wife and two children, Mrs. J. J. Tanner and 2 children, James Keenan, Mrs. Chas Bruette and child, Wm T. Thompson and wife, Chas Plush, Mrs. Antonie Bruette, Geo Clement, Mrs. England and 3 children, Mrs. Salomon, James Kerr, Mrs. Lottie Seymour and sister's child, Patrick Monaghan, child of J. T. Potter, son of Frank Jacobs, son and daughter of James Mellen, Dan McGregor wife and sister, Mrs. Donald LeRoy McDonald and 5 children, James McGregor wife and child, wife and child of Robert Slaughter, Chas Westfall wife and sister, daughter of P. J. Marshall, David family of 7 persons, two sons and a daughter of John Timmer and Mrs. Silas McMinn, Roger Burton (died at Harbor yesterday).

The exact number who perished in the fire is impossible as yet to be ascertained.

One Hundred and Eleven bodies have already been buried at Peshtigo village, and from what is known of the situation it is expected that many more will be found in the groves that skirt the site of the town, and many bodies will yet be found in the pond when the water is drawn off.

We think it is a safe estimate to place the number who perished at Peshtigo village at 175.

Eighty lost their lives in the Upper Bush, fifty in the Middle Bush, and fully 200 in the Lower Bush.

We have labored hard all the week to get the names of the lost and to get at the number as nearly as possible, and we think that our estimate, (for nothing but an approximate estimate can yet be made) will not be very far out of the way. We would to God it could be made reasonably smaller, for such a fearful slaughter of people we never before heard of in this country. Like the destruction of the Host of Schenacharib,
"The angel of death spread his wings on the blast,"
with this difference, that in the destruction of the ancient host, it was the death of grim warriors plumed for the fray, while in this case it was the slaughter of peaceful and happy communities.

God pity the helpless stricken ones who are left to fight the battle of life alone, bereft of home, kindred and all the heart holds near and dear. From the embers of ruined hope, may the germs of virtuous industry spring, while nature in tears, weeping over the blackened funeral pile, shall plant, as the seasons come and go, fresh roses of Spring o'er the ashes of the dead.

Thank God! even this dire calamity is net without its valuable lessons. Amid the corruptions of society and the callous selfishness of humanity, the good there is in human nature is strikingly apparent in a disaster like this. Car-load after car-load of provisions, clothing, sanitary supplies and medical supplies are pouring in, and after the first few days of suffering form want there will be plenty to relieve the sufferings of the homeless.