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difference is sufficient to give an air of novelty that awakens curiosity; while the resemblance fixes attention, and creates a new species of interest. Besides this, the self-love of the Hibernian reader being happily relieved from all apprehension that the lesson was intended for him, his good sense takes and profits by the advice that is offered to another. The humour in this book is peculiarly suited to the Irish, because it is, in every sense of the word, good humour. The satire, if satire it can be called, is benevolent; its object is to mend, and not to wound, the heart Even the Scotch themselves, however national they are supposed to be, can bear the “ Cottagers of Glenburnie.” Nations, like individuals, can with decent patience endure to be told of their faults, if those faults, instead of being represented as forming their established unchangeable character, are considered as arising, as in fact they usually do arise, from those passing circumstances which characterise rather a certain period of civilization than any particular people. If our national faults are pointed out as indelible stains, inherent in the texture of the character, from which it cannot by art or time he bleached or purified, we are justly provoked and offended; but, if a friend warn us of some little accidental spots, which we had, perhaps, overlooked, and which we can, at a moment's notice, efface, we smile, and are grateful.

In “ The Modern Philosophers," where the spirit of system and party interfered with the design of the work, it was difficult to preserve throughout the tone of good-humoured raillery and candour; this could scarcely have been accomplished by any talents or prudence, had not the habitual temper and real disposition of the writer been candid and benevolent. Though this work is a professed satire upon a system, yet it avoids all satire of individuals; and it shows none of that cynical conteinpt of the human race which some satirists seem to feel, or affect, in order to give poignancy to their wit.

Our author has none of that misanthropy which derides the infirmities of human nature, and which laughs while it cauterises. There appears always some adequate object for any pain that she inflicts; it is done with a steady view to future good, and with a humane und tender, as well as with a skilful and courageous, hand.

The object of “ The Modern Philosophers” was to expose those whose theory and practice differ; to point out the difficulty of applying high-flown principles to the ordinary, but necessary, concerns of human life; and to show the danger of trusting every man to become his own moralist and legislator. When this novel first appeared, it was, perhaps, more read, and more admired, than any of Mrs. Hamilton's works; the name and character of Brigettina Bothcrain passed into every company, and became a standing jest-a proverbial point in conversation. The ridicule answered its purpose; it reduced to measure and reason those who, in the novelty and zeal of system, had overleaped the bounds of common sense.

The Modern Philosophers," " The Cottagers of Glenburnie,” and,“ The Letters of the Hindoo Rajah,” the first book, we believe, that our author published, have all been highly and steadily approved by the public. These works, alike in principle and in benevolence of design, yet with each a different grace of style and invention, have established Mrs. Hamilton's character as an original, agreeable, and successful writer of fiction. But her claims to literary reputation, as a useful, philosophic, moral, and religious author, are of a higher sort, and rest upon works of a more solid and durable nature; upon her works on education, especially her “ Letters on Female Education:" In these she not only shows that she has studied the history of the human mind, and that she has made herself acquainted with what has been written on this subject by the best moral and metaphysical writers, but she adds new value to their knowledge by rendering it practically useful. She has thrown open to all classes of readers those metaphysical discoveries or observations, which had been confined chiefly to the learned. To a sort of knowledge, which had been considered more as a matter of curiosity than of use, she has given real value and actual currency; she has shown how the knowledge of metaphysics can be made serviceable to the art of education; she has shown, for instance, how the doctrine of the association of ideas may be applied, in early education to the formation of the habits of temper, and of the principles of taste and morals; she has considered how all that metaphysicians know of sensation, abstraction, &c. can be applied to the cultivation of the judgment and the imaginations of children. No inatter how little is actually ascertained on these subjects, she has done much in wakening the attention of parents, and of mothers especially, to future inquiry; she has done much by directing their inquiries rightly; much by exciting them to reflect upon their own minds, and to observe what passes in the minds of their children. She has opened a new field of investigation to women, a field fitted to their domestic habits, to their duties as mothers, and to their business as preceptors of youth; to whom it belongs to give the minds of children those first impressions and ideas, which remain the long. est, and which influence them often the most powerfully, through the whole course of life. In recommending to her own sex the study of metaphysics, as far as it relates to education, Mrs. Hamilton has been judiciously careful to avoid all that can lead to that species of “ vain debate,” of which there is no end. She, knowing the limits of the human understanding, does not attempt to go beyond them into that which can be at best but a dispute about terms. She does not aim at making women expert in the “ wordy war;" nor does she teach them to astonish the unlearned by their acquaintance with the various vocabularies of metaphysical system-makers.

Such jugglers' tricks she despised; but she has not, on the other hand, been deceived or overawed, by those who would represent the study of the human mind as a study that leads to no practical purpose, and that is unfit and unsafe for her sex. Had Mrs. Hamilton set ladies on metaphysic ground merely to show their paces, she would have made herself and them ridiculous and troublesome; but she has shown how they may, by slow and certain steps, advance to a useful object. The dark, intricate, and dangerous labyrinth, she has converted into a clear, straight, practicable road, a road not only practicable, but pleasant, and not only pleasant but, what is of far more consequence to women, safe.

Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton is well known to be not only a moral, but a pious, writer; and in all her writings, as in all her conversation, religion appears in the most engaging point of view. Her religion was sincere, cheerful and tolerant; joining, in the happiest manner, faith, hope, and charity. All who had the happiness to know this amiable woman will, with one accord, bear testimony to the truth of that feeling of affection which her benevolence, kindness, and cheerfulness of temper inspired. She thought so little of herself, so much of others, that it was impossible she could, superior as she was, excite envy. She put every body at case in her company, in good humour and good spirits with themselves. So far from being a restraint on the young and lively, she encouraged, by her sympathy, their openness and gayety. She never flattered, but she always formed the most favourable opinion, that truth and good sense would permit, of every individual who came near her; therefore all, instead of fearing and shunning her penetration, loved and courted her society.

Much as Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton has served and honoured the cause of female literature by her writings, she has done still higher and more essential benefit to that cause by her life, by setting the example, through the whole of that uniform propriety of conduct, and of all those virtyes which ought to characterize her sex, which form the charm and happiness of domestic life, and which in her united gracefully with that superiority of talent and knowledge that commanded the adıniration of the public.


BATTLE OF WATERLOO. Copy of a Letter from John Lewis, a private in the 95th Regi. ment of Rifle Corps to his parents at Axminster. France, and not only that but in Paris, thank God.


I make no doubt but you have heard of the glorious news, and I suppose you thought I was killed or wounded, but yesterday is the first day we have halted since the beginning of the battle on the 18th of June, and my hands are swelled so with walking day and night, that I scarce can hold my pen. I do not know what the English Newspapers say about the battle, but, thank God, I am living; and was an eye-witness to the beginning of the battle --to the ending of it; but my pen cannot explain to you, nor

twenty sheets of paper would not contain, what I could say about it; for, thank God, I had my strength and health more on the days we were engaged than I had in my life; so what I am going to tell you is the real truth; but I think my brother Tom, as he is such a scholar, if he was to look in the Newspapers, he might see what officers was killed and wounded of the 95th regiment; we have but six companies in the country, and after the battle we were only 255 privates; two colonels, I major, 15 officers, 11 sergeants, and I bugler, were killed; my first-rank man was wounded by part of a shell through his foot, and he dropt as we was advancing; I covered the next man I saw, and had not walked twenty steps before a musket-shot came side-ways and took his nose clean off; and then I covered another man, which was the third; just after that the man that stood next to me on my left hand had his left arm shot off by a nine-pound shot, just above his elbow, and he turned round and caught hold of me with his right hand, and the blood run all over my trowsers; we was advancing, and he dropt directly. After this, was ordered to extend in front of all our large guns, and small arms was firing at the British lines in our rear; and I declare to God, with our guns and the French guns firing over our heads, my pen cannot explain any thing like it; it was not 400 yards from the French lines to our British lines, and we was about 150 yards in front of our's; we was about 250 yards from the French, and sometimes not 100 yards; so I leave you to judge if I had not a narrow escape of my life: as I just said, we now extended in front; Bony's imperial horse guards, all clothed in armour, made a charge at us; we saw them coming, and we all closed in and formed a square just as they came within ten yards of us, and they found they could do no good with us; they fired with their carbines on us, and came to the right about directly, and at that moment the man on my right hand was shot through the body, and the blood run out at his belly and back like a pig stuck in the throat; he dropt on his side; I spoke to him, he just said, “ Lewis I am done!" and died directly. All this time we kept up a constant fire at the imperial guards as they retreated, but they often caine to the right-about and fired; and, as I was loading my rifle, one of their shots came and struck my rifle, not two inches above my left hand, as I was ramming down the ball with my right hand, and broke the stock, and bent the barrel in such a manner that I could not get the ball down; just at that time we extended again, and my rifle was no use to me; a nine-pound shot came and cut the sergeant of our company right in two, he was not above three file from me, so I threw down my rifle and went and took his rifle, as it was not hurt at the time. We had lost both our colonels, major, and two eldest captains, and only a young captain to take command of us; as for Colonel Wade he was sent to England about three weeks before the battle. Seeing we had lost so many men and all our commanding officers, my heart began

to fail, and Bony's guards made another charge on us; but we made them retreat as before, and, while we was in square the second time, the Duke of Wellington and his staff came up to us in all the fire, and saw we had lost all our commanding officers; he, himseif, gave the word of command; the words he said to our regiment were this—95th, unfix your swords, left face and extend yourselves once more, we shall soon have them over the other hill;—and then he rode away on our right, and how he escaped being shot God only knows, for all that time the shot was flying like hail-stones. This was about 4 o'clock on the 18th of June, when Lord Wellington rode away from our regiment; and then we advanced like Britons, but we could not go five steps without walking over dead and wounded; and Bony's hurses of the imperial guards, that the men was killed, was running loose about in all directions. If our Tom had been a little behind in the rear, he might have catched horses envugh to had a troop or two like Sir John Dela pole. Lord Wellington declared to us this morning, that it was the hardest battle that he had ever seen fought in his life; but now, thank God, all is over, and we are very comfortable in Paris, and I hope we shall remain here and · have our Christmas dinner in Paris, for London cannot compare to it; I hardly know how to spare time to write this, for I want to go out about the city, for it is four o'clock, and the letters go off at five; but I must say a little more on the other side:- We was all very quiet in quarters till the 15th June, when the orders came all at once, at twelve o'clock at night, for every man to be ready in one hour, and march at one o'clock; there we was all in a bustle, and off we goes, and it was not light, there was no moon: the orders was, that the French was making different movements on our left, about twenty-two leagues from us; mind the days of the month, - say this day, the 16th, we marched till eleven o'cíock that night, which was twenty-two hours march for us the first day, and we walked thirteen leagues in that time, or thirty-nine English miles; being dark, General Clinton ordered us to lie down on the road-side for two hours; so we halted, and every man got half pint of real rum to keep up his spirits; we set off again at ten o'clock in the morning on the 17th June, and marched nine leagues, about four o'clock in the afternoon; then we was in front of the enemy, but the rain fell so hard that the oldest soldiers there never saw the like in their life, I really thought that heaven and earth was coming together. There was a few shots fired on both sides that night, but the guns would not go off. We was on one long high hill, and the French on another, facing us; there was a large wood bebind us, and Lord Wellington told us to get wood, and make us large fires and dry ourselves, and get our guns fit by day, as the enemy could not hurt us. So we made large fires, and they was about four miles in length; and when the French saw it, they did the same, and it was one of the most beautiful sights I ever saw; and the

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