a man, who has been for many years, Director of Prisons, and Philanthropic Institutions, in one of the constitutional, self-governed realms of Europe.
The next Philanthropic Congress, is fixed for the autumn of next year, and is to be held at Frankfort.
On the 12th of October, I traveled by railway, in six hours, from Brussels to Paris.
Amongst the passengers in the carriage, in which I traveled, was a military-looking man, with a light-haired little girl of three years old, upon his knee. The little one seemed to like making excursions in the carriage. A lively young Frenchman, who sat opposite me, took possession of her, and decked her out fantastically with flowers, in which business I assisted; the little one submitting to it all, casting every now and then a glance at her father, as if to say, “What do you say, what do you think now?” to which he did not fail to reply with looks of the utmost amazement. Finally, we sent the little one, like an animated bush of flowers, to her father, who clasped her, delighted, flowers and all, to his bosom.—Ever young, ever delightful relationship!—Eternal springtime of humanity!
