recover. We have a great many officers wound-ately apparent. We found things here in a far ed, nine in one regiment only. If we add to better condition than at Scutari; there was more this, that there is a good deal of cholera and cleanliness, comfort, and attention; the beds fever, general scarcity of accommodation and were nicer, cleaner, and better arranged. The medical aid, we shall give too true an account ventilation was excellent, and, as far as we could of the British hospital at Scutari. I do not pre- see or learn, there was no want of anything. sume to say-I dare not even fancy to myself- The chief custody of some of the more dangerat whose door may lie the amazing charge of ously wounded was confided to the Sisters of negligence in this respect. I merely state a Charity, of which an order (St. Vincent de Paul) most melancholy and self-evident fact. The is founded here. The courage, energy, and average deaths are fifteen daily. It is a ghastly patience of these excellent women are said to be sight to see the old Scotch sergeant joking over beyond all praise. I saw several fine healthy the dead with a fearful pleasantry as they are young persons, with that clear bright complexion being sewed up in sacks for burial. which I think often goes with a good conscience, and which I have often observed seems a sort of prerogative of the French religieuse. It seemed to me that there must be a heart-rending story of pain and trial attached to some of them, so young and fair, so fitted to make a Paradise of home, and yet to be homeless and unloved, for ever passing life in duties so stern and solemn. I fancied, too, that some of the poor fellows, grown used to those kind voices and gentle hands, would leave the hospital with a strange cold pang a few weeks hence. I know that I should, but for the talisman of another love, the only charm I can well believe would bear man harm

Let us go and see the Russian officers who have been taken prisoners. They are in a room apart, and three only out of some ten or twelve are wounded. One of the latter is a mere boy of about sixteen. He has been shot in the knee, and will probably have to undergo amputation, but it is touching to witness his courage and good humor. It seems to me, as he lies there so young, and fair, and feminine-faced, like the courage of a wife with her husband near her in some time of pain and trial. Poor child! He tells me in German that he has many relations, so many he can scarcely count thein; and he opens his large eyes with such a winning arch-less through such a trial. ness as he speaks, that one can see at a glance The French hospital presented a far different he is some mother's darling. I watch the sur-sight to the English one at Scutari: all was dull, geon as he dresses the lad's hideous wound. silent, and solemn. Grim and terrible would be Even he, accustomed to see acts of heroism every almost still better words. Here I saw all was hour, nobler than those wrought on the battle-life and gayety. The presence of those neat, field, even he is moved by the boy's brave prattle. active, kindly women had done much-the in"Tell him, above all things," says the doctor, not to move the bandages." I am sorry to say some of the Russian soldiers have done so apparently under the impression that we meant evil by them. Unhappily, too, we have nobody who can speak Russian at this moment.

nate joyousness of the French character had done more. There were my old acquaintances, the French soldiers, playing at dominoes ecate by their bed-sides, and twisting paper cigarettes or disputing together, just as I have seen them anywhere else, from Paris to Constantinople or The next patient was a fierce, obstinate youth, Bona. I liked also to listen to the agreeable who swore lustily, and bounced down, after sub- manner in which the doctor spoke to them. mitting to be bandaged, with very edifying pride" Mon garcon " or mon brave quite lit up when he and impatience; but the third, a fine handsome came near with his humane and brotherly interman, with the cold blue eye which I think dis-est in them. I could not help noticing it. My tinguishes all the Russians, lay on his back and glared horribly into vacancy. He never stirred while his wound was being dressed, or seemed to notice us, and when we left hin glared still in the same fixed and fearful way as before.

At the request of one of the British officers, I now enquired of the others if there was anything which they desired, and stated that if so their wants would be attended to with all possible courtesy and hospitality. They were all subalterns, however, and apparently felt their position very little; after a short conversation amongst themselves, therefore, they announced that they would like some breakfast, which was their most pressing want for the moment, and some was no doubt brought to them, though I did not wait to see it.

Indeed, the day was already waning fast, and we had an engagement to be at the French hospital at two o'clock; so, getting back as quickly as we could, we found ourselves just in time to accompany one of the principal surgeons over the wards. The difference between a military nation and one that is not made itself immedi

acquaintance smiled-"it is not only as you observe," he said," a national peculiarity with us to address persons in humble life with tenderness, but in the army we are especially instructed to do so." The Sisters of Charity, however, spoke to the wounded in a manner which was still more happy and French. Their voices must have sounded to many a poor fellow with a lively imagination like a foretaste of the glory and consideration he would meet with in his own village. Every word seemed to express such a true admiration for valor, such a gentle and special interest in the "excellent enfant " addressed, such a sweet readiness to listen to the slightest whisper from his parched lips, and such unwearied activity in ministering to the smallest of his wants. God bless those women, what a mission of mercy they are fulfilling now!

Hark to the deep roar of the guns as they come booming over the sulky waters and through the heavy air. My companion pauses. "It is for the death of Marshal St. Arnaud" he says, "his strange career is ended," and indeed it was so. The Commander-in-Chief of the French troops

Her last letter contained the sad presage of the coming on of death, but she spoke of her approaching end with touching simplicity and even cheerfulness. You will not see your old friend So excellent a woman, so richly endowed a when you come to England again," she writes, genius, has seldom gladdened the world, and now" for I shall not be alive in the spring, but they that her beautiful name has been borne away will tell you where I am sleeping." among the angels, we look in vain for another to fill the place she has left on earth. The story of her life is written in her works. Beautiful as a summer's day flowed on the current of her existence, and although some passing clouds briefly obscured the sunlight on her pathway, her years have been more touched with joy than sorrow. for of no one was it ever more truly said or writ

In the little town of Alresford in Hampshire, atten, Christmas time in the year 1789, she was born. In her quiet cottage in the leafy village of Swallowfield, on the 10th of January, 1855, she died.Her life will be written by some loving hand chosen from the ranks of friendship, and her correspondence, reaching through half a century, will be published no doubt at the same time. A more delightful biography, a more admirable POLITE." You pop first," says roasting chesseries of letters cannot be given to the world.nut on the bar to another. "No: after you." She was the friend and companion of some of By no means; after you." In the meantime, the greatest and best in the walks of English folks waited, and all eating was delayed. Let literature, and her signal abilities have strown diners-out take this fact to heart, and pop to the her path with chaplets honorable, and abundant. mahogany without false ceremony.

46

From Chambers's Journal.

THE SECOND BABY.

BETWEEN the first baby and the second, what & falling off is there, my countrywomen! Not in intrinsic value, for the second may chance to be as pretty a piece of flesh as any in Messina," but in the imaginary value with which it is invested by its nearest kin and more distant female belongings. The coming of the first baby in a household creates an immense sensation; that of the second is comparatively a common-place affair. The first baby is looked for with anxiety, nursed with devotion, admired with enthusiasm, dressed with splendor, and made to live upon system. Baby Number Two is not longed for by any one, except, perhaps the mother; is nursed as a matter of course, and admired as a matter of courtesy; is dressed in the cast-off clothes of Number One, and gets initiated into life without much ceremony or system.

Such was my reflection the other day as I watched the assembled family welcome the little stranger the second in our household. I am but a bachelor uncle, and my opinion on such matters may be little worth; but it seemed to me that this second child was a great deal superior to the first, seeing that it was larger, quieter, and not nearly so red as his elder brother. Thereupon, retiring to my accustomed corner of the spacious family parlor, I indulged in various lucubrations apropos of babies generally and secondbabies in particular, which I took care not to deliver viva voce at the time, but which I amused myself afterwards by committing to paper, and now offer to the reader.

blood! From the care and the love of this creature nothing, I thank God, can set me free! " So it is with the first child. Indeed, one would think no child had ever been born into the world before, when one listens to a couple talking of their first-born during its first year. To them it is as it was to Adam and Eve when they hung together over their infant Cain: it is a new and grand experience. Thoughts of God and Paradise are in it: God is near above them, smiling his blessing; the gates of Paradise are close at hand, and wide open; and the angels look forth with sympathizing eyes upon their joy. Ah! there is scarcely any joy in life equal to that joy at the birth of a first child! It never comes again: there is never another first child. Of course, parents will say and will feel that the second "is very precious;" that "indeed they love it as well as the first" that "each child brings its full share of love with it;" and that

True love in this differs from gold and clay-
That to divide is not to take away:

so that they can love a dozen as much as one. But let them compare their sensations at the first birth with their sensations at the second, and if they have any faculty of self-observance, be sure they will acknowledge a wide difference to the love of the child itself in the one case, is superadded the novelty of parentage.

But it by no means follows, that because the first child creates so much more vivid a sensation in the household than the second, it deserves to be loved more. As a general rule, you will find the second child, in various ways, superior to the "A babe in the house is a well-spring of joy," first-often superior to all the succeeding chil saith a modern philosopher. He speaks from ex-dren, where the family is numerous. The law perience, doubtless; and the saying shows that he hath never had misgivings about getting the daily bread for the babe, or for the mother that should give it suck. Yes, to people with health, peace, and competence, a babe in the house is a well-spring of joy; but to people who are indigent, harassed, and of doubtful health, I fear it is a well-spring of something very different.

and society give the preference to eldest sons and daughters; fairy tales invariably give the preference to the youngest. I set myself, in this particular, against both the existing social system, and the wont and usage of fairyland, and think the second child is generally the best, physically, intellectually, and morally. With all due consideration for the Octavias and Septimuses, for Sextus and Quintus, and with the usual undue consideration for Mr. Primus and my Lady Una, I contend that their second brother or sister is likely to excel them all. I am not prepared to go to the stake as a martyr for this opinion, but I am prepared to wield a pen in its defence, and now add a few of the strongest arguments in its favor.

I know I shall seem like an old brute of a bachelor to sentimental ladies, married and single, for saying such things; but this is a land of freedom of speech, where "a man may speak the thing he will." And this I will say, on behalf of the poor babies themselves, that if they had any sense at all, they would wish they had never been born at all events, the second would, and every succeeding baby of the aforesaid unhopeful pa- In the first place, a second child of ordinary rentage. The first baby is generally welcome, parents, tolerably well off, benefits in infancy and even to parents who are doubtful about the mor- childhood by the experience they gained with the row's meal. It flings a poetry over their poverty; first. They try experiments with the first; ask they look on it with unutterable love, with tender advice of doctors and old ladies; and are so respect, as a charge committed to their trust by anxious to help nature, that they often hinder her God himself, as a renewal of their own lives - a operations. The child is never let alone; it is mystic bond of love that no time, and perhaps always being taken notice of by some admiring not even eternity itself, can untie. It is a new and nurse or relative. Now, the proverb of the kitchwonderful thing! They can't get familiar with en, that "a watched pot never boils," applies, the wonder of it! Its whole little being is a mar-mutatis mutandis, to the nursery, and it may be vellous work; and the hearts of the parents, said that "a watched baby never thrives." But especially of the mother, glow with the purest the second child profits by the experiments made ecstasy when they take it in their arms, and with the first. The parents, having discovered think: "This is my child, my own flesh and that "let well alone" is a safer maxim than

trust nothing to chance" in the case of an in- with those which appertain to another grade. fant, are content to let Baby Number Two lie on The eldest son is not obliged to work hard at the floor sometimes, instead of being always in either seminary, and he never does work harder the arms; are not anxious to coax it to walk be-than it suits his inclination or sense of duty. fore it can get up on its little feet and stand; will The second son, being duly warned by his father allow it to ask for food, instead of forcing food that he must study for a profession, and that on down its throat; are not frightened into foolish-his success in that profession he must depend for ness because it looks up to the open sky without a maintenance, goes to school and college detera hat on. So when it can run about, they do not mined to work; or if not, he is speedily made to mount guard over every motion, remove from the know the difference between an eldest and a child's path every obstacle, and help it to over-second son. His tutors force him to work; and come every small difficulty; they have learned if he have profited by his home education as a that all these acts of love are not so good for the child, in the way I have already described, he child as its acquiring habits of self-help and self-very soon learns that work of all kinds well done reliance. If they have any faculty of prevision, is worth more than its wages to the doer; and they will see that a child who requires to be he blesses the accident of birth which made him watched and helped all day long, will probably Baby Number Two, instead of Baby Number want watching and helping when he grows a One.

man.

"But," says some reader, and with consideraBaby Number Two escapes most of the medi-ble show of reason, "do not all these advantages cines administered to Number One, and a great which you attribute solely to the second son, bedeal of the dressing-in which respeets Baby long also to the rest of the younger children?" Number Two has decidedly the advantage. I think not, and for these reasons: — Baby Number Two escapes the evil effects of After the second child is born, parents get quite flattering tongues, which tell Number One twen-familiar with the birth and infancy of their chil

ty times a-day that it is "the sweetest little thing that ever was seen."

Baby Number Two escapes the evil effects of jealous suggestions, such as: "Ah! your nose is put out of joint. You're not the only one now! The new baby is the darling now.”

Baby Number Two has the advantage of the company of an elder brother or sister: he learns a thousand things more easily in consequence. His own voluntary imitation is worth all the direct teaching mothers and nurses can give.

dren; and whereas the first child attracts too much attention, it often happens that the third, fourth, and fifth, do not attract enough. They are cared for well, in a general way, but they do not get that particular care and attention which the eldest child got, and which was too much; nor the half of it, which was bestowed on the second child, and which was just enough. Parents with limited income -as if any incomes were unlimited-find that to educate the young. er children at as great a money-cost as the two elder, is more than they can manage; and so the younger children are not so well off as the second child. Of course, I speak only of average children; here and there you have a genius born among the younger members of a numerous famIt is also an advantage to him to play the pro-ily-a Wellington, a Nelson, a Scott, a Napoleon; tector and the teacher in his turn: he cares for the little ones, and is patient with them. I don't deny that this advantage he shares with his socially-favored elder brother.

Then, again, if Baby Number Two be followed by more of his kind, he is sure to take to them kindly; as he has never been the only one, he sees no harm in the coming of "another, and another, and another."

As he advances in life, I have no hesitation in saying that the second son has frequently the best of it. In cases where the eldest son succeeds to a fortune and an estate-that is to say in a family of family- - your second son is almost always first in everything but birth. He goes to school and college as the relative to his antecedent, if I may be allowed a grammatical pun. He has there all the advantages of equality, together

such children arrive at their destination in life, whether they be eldest, second, or younger children. The exceptions may prove the rule, but they do not weaken its truth.

In conclusion, I invite my readers to study the family history of their friends and acquaintances, and see if they do not find my assertion good. The second child is generally the best of the family. I ought to know, for I am a second child myself, and on that ground alone I began to turn my attention to the subject; and having come to the foregone conclusions, I make a point of watching the career of a second baby.

HOW TO DRINK CLARET.-On one occasion | I observed to him "that the weakness of his the Vice Chancellor said to me very abruptly, stomach resembled that of Dr. Topping, a phy"you have been looking at me some time, I know sician at Colchester, who, when a gentleman what you are thinking of; you think that I eat with whom he was dining expressed some disa confounded deal!" "No sir," I said; "I am satisfaction at his not taking claret, which had surprised that you eat of such a variety of dishes." been provided expressly for him, answered, "I "The truth is," said he, “I have a very weak, have no objection to take a bottle, or a couple, of stomach, and when it has digested as much claret, but I have so weak a stomach, I am oblig as it can of one kind of food, it will set to work ed to drink a bottle of port first!'"-Gunning's and digest some other." Reminiscences.

THE Convenience of a brother is, in not being when mamma is anxious to go home, and you able to find the carriage at an evening party, are anxious to stop.