and has a profound respect for the stranger. The other day two of our chiefs begged me to give them a private lesson on the circulation of the blood, which I willingly complied with. We seated ourselves in the wood, and I explained to them what they did not know; they were very grateful, and have come to me several times since to beg me to continue my lesson—indeed, the girls here have a sweet nature in many respects. There are little jealousies and excitements amongst themselves, but they take the right relationship to me; they think me singularly grave and self-sufficing, but they show me continually the utmost respect, and are always glad to do me any little service. I frequently enter the salle d'accouchements, when the other divisions are engaged there, to see what is going on, and I always meet a pleasant welcome. One evening I phrenologised them, to their unbounded delight; for some time after I could never enter the room without being surrounded by a small mob eagerly demanding an examination. Everything delights them; they are perfect children in their full, unthinking enjoyment of the present. A little English lesson is a never-failing source of merriment, and I am continually saluted with some oddly pronounced English word, followed by a burst of merriment. We have girls from all parts of France; some are remarkable for their stupidity, which is generally explained by the province from which they arrive. Madame Charrier's morning lesson is an ordeal through which all have to pass, and seated by her, every morning, I have a fine opportunity for studying the various departments of France. When some singularly obtuse intellect has exhausted all the patience and all the impatience of the teacher, she folds her hands and asks in a subdued voice, 'Mademoiselle, from what department do you come?' and on receiving the answer, adds, 'Ah, then it is all accounted for; the case is a hopeless one;' which announcement
