The following will prove that the enemy suffered a terrible loss during that long siege, particularly in the last three months that the town held out. The Invalide Russe (one of their principal papers), published their loss as follows; but I have every reason to believe that it is far below the truth. The report stated that in our final efforts to take Sebastopol from them, they suffered heavily; during the fifth bombardment, which was in August, 1855, they acknowledged a daily loss of 1,500 men, exclusive of officers; and then at the Tchernaya there was a loss of close upon 10,000 men dead and wounded—that was on the 16th August, 1855. It added that whole brigades disappeared, and the interior of the town was nothing but a slaughter house or a hell upon earth; then it went on to say that they lost 1,000 men daily until the last or final bombardment, and further, their loss was 18,000 men, exclusive of officers, from the 5th to the 8th of September! We know that they lost nearly double that number.

It is bad enough to be on the conqueror’s side, but what must it be to be on the side of the vanquished? The conquerors have something to keep up their spirits, but the defeated lack every source of consolation.

We knew well that a grateful and kind-hearted people in old England were watching every move we made. Mr. Bull does not mind how deeply he dives into his pocket, so long as he can sit with his pipe and glass over a good fire, and shout “We have beaten them again, my boys”: and we had given Mr. Bull something to talk about now that Sebastopol had been taken. The bells of old England we knew would clash for joy, in peal after peal, at the news of the fall of this town. But there is another side to the picture. Many a good, kind, fond mother lost her son, perhaps her only son; thousands were left fatherless; hundreds were left to mourn absent husbands; and many a heart-rending scene in many a formerly happy home was brought about by this terrible war.

REFLECTIONS.

I do hope that if ever we go to war again on account of Turkey, it will be to help to drive the “Sick Man” out of Europe; but, above all, that we shall always keep side by side with France, through thick and thin. I believe we shall find a great friend and useful ally in her. It is true what Napoleon I. said, that France and England united could dictate to the whole world; and the statesmen who keep them united will be wise, for none would then dare to attack us. “I have proved the strength of England,” said that great, little man; and when he came to die, he acknowledged where the strength of England lay. Calling one of his faithful followers to his bedside, he requested that the Book of Books should be brought to him. Placing his hand upon the book, he fastened his eyes upon those who stood speechless by his side—he that had made the whole of Europe tremble at his word (England excepted)—and said, “I have often wondered where the strength of England lay; but since I have come to this lonely spot, I have had time to think, and I have come to the conclusion that any thinking man must come to, that the strength of England lay in the great secret contained in this Book.” Reader, these are memorable words, especially when we consider that they came from the lips of one who had spent nearly all his days an infidel, and had had to go to the rock of St. Helena to find out the truth. He died there, professing Christianity, on the 5th May, 1821, aged 52 years; and the old East Suffolk Regiment carried him to his grave—twelve grenadiers of the 12th Regiment being selected to bear his remains to the place of interment. Conqueror as he was, he had to lay down his arms to King Death, comparatively young—

For when death the fatal route did bring,
His soul did march away. At the great judgment day,
Among the Blest may he be found, and all his sins forgiven!
As his route was, reader, in time thine shall surely be,
Kings and Dragoons, when called, must pass away.