linen up-stairs, for the sake of air. Such
an enormous stock of linen implies no small
amount of washing. In the washhouse, the
sisters do everything, rubbing, wringing,
and hanging out to dry. Moreover, the
sisters keep school; and there are four
school-rooms in all: two for the elder
children of either sex, and two for the
little ones. In the school-rooms are a
couple of "lits de repos," comfortable,
leather-covered elastic sofas, for children to
go and lie down upon, when their backs are
tired with sitting up. Out of school-hours,
the sisters supervise and direct the sports.
The little patients play, fencing gaily with
swords of lath, or going through a mock
fight with their crutches, either in the
open air, weather permitting, or in the
lofty covered gymnasiums with comfortable
stoves to warm them, and floors
thickly covered with sand to avert all
danger from awkward falls.

Let us look at this fine hospital from the
sandy beach. The rising tide prevents our
taking a distant view, but we can get far
enough away from it to comprehend its
plan. The buildings common to all are in
the centre; properly, the most conspicuous
of these is the handsome church. The left
portion of this palace of charity is occupied
by the boys, the right by the girls;
one side answering exactly to the other.
Every building and room, not intended for
general use, is repeated in impartial duplicate.
On each side is a room for the dressing
of wounds and sores, and on each side
a letter-box, for the free use of children
who can write to their parents, and who
will. There is no estrangement of the
inmates from their families. Parents can
come and see their children, with the director's
cognisance, whenever they choose.
And with all this complete separation of
the sexes, you can walk throughout the
whole establishment without going out into
the open air. The several departments are
connected by spacious corridors, not open
like cloisters, but closed with windows;
which windows are decorated with pots of
flowers. Indeed, flowers constitute one of
the pleasures of the place. If sufficient
quantities are not to be had in the
neighbourhood, never mind; they are sent from
Paris. The corridors are lighted with gas,
made on the spot, from six in the morning,
so long as gaslight at that hour is needed.
In short, the hospital is a town under cover,
inhabited by a population of luxuriously
maintained and almost-spoiled children –
and that purposely; because spoiling sick
babes and feeding them well, have a
wonderfully curative effect.

To these comforts we would suggest one
little addition. The corridors and the
children's school-rooms are all paved with
cement or stone. It is true that, in the
school-rooms there is a wooden bar by way
of a footstool, on which the children can
rest their feet, and so keep them from
contact with the chilling pavement; but this
little precaution for the non-conduction of
vital heat from the extremities is hardly
sufficient. Moreover, not a few of the
sisters, whether through their habits of
early youth, or as an act of discipline and
self-denial, perform their service barefooted,
as we have seen Scotch lassies do it. Now,
it would greatly add, not merely to the
comfort, but to the appearance of the
hospital, were those corridors and school-rooms
carpeted or matted. A broad coloured
stripe running along the perspective of
those vast galleries would be a not less
effective decoration than the pleasing lines
of flowers and verdure; while it would
greatly contribute both to the comfort and
the noiselessness of passing feet.

It will already have been made evident
to the reader that, notwithstanding that its
mainspring and machinery differ so widely
from those obtainable in England, the
Hôpital Napoléon well deserves a visit by
Englishmen engaged in the administration
of similar institutions. Thus it is a wise
although an obvious arrangement that the
dormitories on the ground-floor should be
appropriated to children who are obliged
to use crutches, and who would have more
or less difficulty in mounting staircases. In
these spacious rooms, as elsewhere, the beds
are placed very far apart; there is not the
slightest approach to crowding, nor is the
faintest bedroom smell perceptible. So
lofty are the ceilings, and so numerous the
windows, that the insensible ventilation
suffices to keep the air pure at night, until,
by day, a few windows can be partially
opened. The insensible ventilation is further
assisted in winter by the fires burning in
the stoves which warm the rooms.

Over each bed is a card, on which are
inscribed the number of the patient, the Christian
and surname, the special affection under
which he is suffering, and the name of the
doctor who attended him in Paris. The
bedding is most comfortable, elastic, and
clean. We inspected it, mentally applying
the test, " Could we sleep well in such a bed
ourselves?" Answer, " Certainly, yes."
In the babies' rooms (children under three