“Tell me, doctor, is a hospital really the paradise Miss ---- represents it? Her soldiers are all perfectionists; they never quarrel, they never swear, they never drink, they never gamble; and more than this, they never get well; they are sure to die in some romantic way, with an interesting wife, mother, or sister, in the distance.” My answer, of course, was a laugh, trusting to my friend, the cadet, to justify me; but here I was mistaken. His answer was a mere empty word of compliment, as to what the ladies made the hospital, etc., leaving the main question untouched. I therefore was compelled to take up my own defence, and assure her that the fact of my having preferred to dwell upon the interesting cases, was no proof that the hospital contained no others; that we all knew that either in or out of a hospital, our strongest feelings were called forth by extreme illness and danger. “Like a bruised leaf, at touch of Fear, Its hidden fragrance Love gives out.” More than this, that here, as elsewhere, people ceased to be interesting when they recovered; therefore, most naturally, I had not dwelt much upon such cases as had returned, cured, to their regiments. I further assured her that I had heard men both quarrel and swear; had seen them both drink and gamble within these walls; and that, at the very moment we were speaking, a special friend of mine--acknowledged to be the worst man in the hospital--was in the guard-house; a man who probably interested me more deeply and painfully than any one here; and whose story, could I tell it, might thrill her to her soul’s depths; but in this case also, there was an “interesting mother in the distance,” whose pale, patient, long-suffering face, mutely appealing to me from her sweet photograph, must seal my lips forever upon that sad subject. Because I had told her that oaths were checked in our presence, did it follow, I asked her, that they were never uttered in our absence? Because I had said, and most truly, that in my whole term of service I had never heard a rude word, or seen an act of discourtesy, either to myself or any of the lady visitors, did it follow that such words or acts never passed between themselves? Because I had shrunk from the painful theme of the guard-house and its inmates, did it follow that it was untenanted? And finally, triumphantly made her confess that, like too many amongst us, she had formed her conclusions on insufficient data, promising, as a reward for her generosity in owning herself routed, that henceforth I would reserve the pleasant cases for myself, and pick out the worst ones for my friends, as they seemed to prefer them. I tell you this, that you may understand why I take you, first of all, to the crossest man here, in preference to the most attractive and gentle. You do not care to see him, you say. Oh! yes. For the sake of my promise I must show him to you, and after that we can look at pleasanter specimens. He will not hurt you; it is only