It already presents the appearance of a little village with small patches of gardens in front of the huts; and its position on those heights, among the rocks, overhanging the sea and steep crags, which wind up past the old Genoese tower that stands at the entrance of Balaklava harbour, to the height of our camp over the sea, is strikingly picturesque. The judicious surgical treatment of my arm, and the careful manner in which the doctor's directions were carried out by our nurse, together with holding it under the stream of cold spring water, soon restored it to use again; several other men whose wounds were very severe were fast improving under this lady's care. Her assiduity and skill as a nurse, as well as the gentle kindness of her manner, fully warranted the greatest respect from her patients, who almost idolized her, whose presence in the hut stilled the pain of the wounded men. We often wondered whether she ever slept, as she seemed to be always attending one or another of her charge. Miss Nightingale had left Balaklava for Scutari a few days ago, so I had not the gratification of seeing that heroic lady, whose honoured name is often mentioned among the soldiers of the British Army with the most profound respect—that high born lady Florence Nightingale, the sick and wounded soldier's friend, whose name will be handed down to future generations, as the greatest heroine of her sex, who left her happy home with all the genial associations, comforts and social attractions which her birth, education and accomplishments so well enable her to appreciate; going out to a country wherein every turn spoke of war and slaughter; taking up her abode in an hospital containing none of her own sex save those noble ladies who accompanied her as nurses; watching and tending the sick from morning till night, among hundreds of wounded, sick, emaciated and hungry soldiers. All these things considered, there has indeed rarely, if ever, been such an example of heroic daring combined with feminine gentleness. Although there is a heroism in charging the enemy on the heights of Inkerman, in defiance of death and all mortal opposition, worthy of all praise and honour, yet the quiet sympathy, the largeness of her religious heart, and her wondrous powers of consolation, will ever be remembered with the love, thankfulness and affection of the soldiers of the British Army, and by no one more than T. Faughnan. LINES TO MISS FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. At the Crimean war thy life was new; You left your home, and country too, To tend the wounded with hand so fair, To Balaklava hospital you did repair. Miss Florence Nightingale, for you is given The soldier's prayer to God in Heaven, That you may soar to Him above, For your right noble valour and Christian love. If Angels are here on earth below, You must be one of them we know; For flesh and blood can not compare, Such genuine valour and angelic care.