admiring Jeanne, and being lost in wonder and delight at the astonishing perfections of-the baby! For it is true, a baby has appeared in the white house, and it may be almost questioned which of the three-Aunt Anna, Jeanne herself, or Madame Blanchemain-is proudest of the fact, and fondest of the infant. And all this happiness-all this good fortune, arose from what? From George's strict attention to the habits of order and economy instilled into him by his father. Much of his great success he owed unquestionably to his natural talent; to the assiduous perseverance which enabled him not only to acquire a foreign language, but to perfect himself in the knowledge of art and commerce; to his strict honesty and unwearying industry; to his devotion to whatever task he undertook. But that these talents should have found a field to work in; that these acquirements should have had opportunities for making themselves known; that this devotion, honesty, and industry, should have found scope for their display in such a house as M. Wolff's-all this was owing in the first place to A PIN! MY BIRTH-DAY. "My birth-day"-what a diff'rent sound That word had in my youthful ears! And how, each time the day comes round, Less and less white its mark appears! When first our scanty years are told, That Time around him binds so fast, Pleas'd with the task, he little thinks How hard that chain will press at last. Vain was the man,* and false as vain, Who said "were he ordain'd to run His long career of life again, He would do all that he had done.". Ah, 'tis not thus the voice, that dwells Of counsel mock'd; of talents, made * Fontenelle. But oft, like Israel's incense, laid That cross'd my pathway, for his star.— All this it tells, and, could I trace Th' imperfect picture o'er again, With pow'r to add, retouch, efface The lights and shades, the joy and pain, How little of the past would stay! How quickly all should melt away All-but that Freedom of the Mind, Which hath been more than wealth to me; Those friendships, in my boyhood twin'd, And that dear home, that saving ark, Where Love's true light at last I've found, Cheering within, when all grows dark, And comfortless, and stormy round! Thomas Moore. ALLIGATORS, BUFFALOES, AND BOA-CONSTRICTORS IN THE PHILIPPINES. SOME forty years ago a young French surgeon, named Paul de la Gironière, left Nantes for the Philippine Islands, on board a crazy old merchant ship, of which he was the medical officer. It chanced, while the vessel was anchored off Cavite, a small town about five or six leagues distant from Manilla, the capital of the Philippines, that the cholera broke out in the island, and spread with such fearful rapidity, that the Indian population succumbed by thousands, and the dead-carts crowded the streets of the city at all hours of the day and night. To the fright occasioned by the epidemic quickly succeeded rage and despair. The Indians took up the notion, which generally prevails under similar circumstances among the ignorant in all parts of the world, that the foreign residents had poisoned the rivers and fountains, in order to destroy the native population and possess themselves of the Philippines. The result was a dreadful massacre of the foreigners, and the captain of De la Gironière's ship was among the first victims. Gironière only escaped himself through the kind offices of some of the natives whose families he had attended professionally without asking for payment. When tranquillity was at length restored-a result mainly brought about by the display of indomitable courage on the part of Gironière-the poor naval surgeon, who had lost all his property and effects during the period of the outbreak, bethought himself what he should do until the time arrived for the departure of his ship for Europe. His love for sport induced him to accept an invitation from a native Indian, whom he had previously met in his shooting excursions, and whose home was at the foot of the Mangondon mountains. While he was amusing himself here, a message reached him from the mate of the ship to the effect that he was on the eve of setting sail. This message had been delayed several days on its way. Gironière, therefore, hurried off to Manilla, but on arriving at the quay, learnt that the vessel had already weighed anchor. Sure enough there she was far away in the horizon, moving sluggishly before a gentle breeze towards the mouth of the bay. He asked some Indian boatmen to convey him on board. They thought this might be practicable, provided the wind did not freshen, but demanded twelve dollars to make the attempt. Gironière had but five-and-twenty dollars in the world. "I considered," says he, "for a few moments. Should I not reach the vessel, what would become of me in a remote colony, where I knew no one, and with my stock of money reduced to thirteen dollars, and with no articles of dress save those I had on-a white jacket, trousers, and striped shirt. A sudden thought crossed my mind-What if I were to remain at Manilla and practise my profession! Young and inexperienced, I ventured to think myself the cleverest physician in the Philippine Islands. Who has not felt this self-confidence, so natural to youth? I turned my back upon the ship, and walked briskly to Manilla." Fortune smiled upon the young physician, who speedily acquired a considerable practice, and had the happiness to secure the affections of a most amiable lady, possessed of considerable wealth, and whom he shortly afterwards married. The larger portion of her fortune, however, was lost almost immediately afterwards in the Mexican Revolution, and this circumstance, coupled with the weak state of his wife's health, induced De la Gironière to purchase an estate some distance in the interior, where he |