sufferer grew worse every hour. The danger seemed imminent, and our distress was not trifling. I therefore determined myself to try my skill as an operator, and with a very indifferent substitute for a lancet, and, I fear, not a very steady hand, succeeded in giving relief to my first patient. I should think this a very tedious story to write to one who did _not_ know how the human heart, even the heart of one who has passed through many scenes of suffering and danger, attaches itself to these little ones in their years of helplessness. My clumsy attempts were certainly blessed beyond our hope, for the little sufferer soon became calmer and calmer, and his fever sensibly diminished.” We record this incident, because it proves that tenderness of heart is not incompatible with the sternest courage: the two qualities may, and often do co-exist. It is unnecessary to dwell on the education or boyhood of young Havelock: from the earliest period he had expressed a desire to adopt his father’s profession, though, judging from his subordinate rank in the army, he had little reason to expect rapid promotion. He obtained his commission in 1847, and at the commencement of the Indian Mutiny held the rank of lieutenant in the 10th Regiment. When his father received the command of the moveable column which was to be formed at Allahabad, and to consist of the 64th Regiment and 78th Highlanders, he was appointed Deputy-Assistant Adjutant-General of this force, and accompanied them in their advance to Cawnpore. He had already held the appointment of adjutant in his own regiment, and acted for a time as aide-de-camp to his father on this his first campaign. He was present at the battle of Futtehpore, where his gallantry attracted the notice and excited the admiration of his father, who, in the original draft of the despatch he had written, thus alludes to his services:—“I shall incur risk of suspected partiality when I further record that the boldness, and activity, and quick perception of Lieutenant Havelock, 10th Foot, my son, and aide-de-camp, on this his first action on shore, inspired me with the hope that he will do his country good service long after I am in the grave.” No one can read these words without emotion, or fail to sympathize with the father of such a son and yet such was the tenderness of Havelock’s conscience, the almost morbid dread that paternal partiality might have led him to exaggerate the merits of his aide-de-camp, that the passage was omitted in the revised copy of the despatch. We question whether there be many officers in the service who would exhibit the same reticence, or practise the same self-denial under similar circumstances; but Havelock was one of a thousand. Though he had the Spartan self-denial to omit his son’s name in his published despatch, he speaks of “the boy H.” in admiring terms in his private letters, and circumstances soon occurred which led him to believe it to be his duty to