in spite of the utmost efforts of Byng's brigade of Guards, drove the British into the garden and courtyard, which they held with unconquerable resolution-though the house, set on fire by the howitzers, was wholly consumed. The principal attack, meanwhile, was led by Ney against the left centre of the British, and the farm-house of La Haye Sainte. Four massy columns, together numbering 20,000 men, pushed forward in defiance of the heavy fire from the British cannon and musketry, till within twenty yards of their line; and the British were beginning to waver, when Picton brought up Pack's brigade, before which the French in turn recoiled; and Ponsonby's brigade of horse (the Scots Greys, Queen's Bays, and Enniskillens) charging at the same moment, the French column was pierced through and ridden over, and 2000 prisoners, with two eagles, taken, while 40 guns were either captured or disabled. The gallant Picton, however, had fallen in heading the charge; and the cavalry, pursuing their advantage too far, were in turn overwhelmed by Milhaud's cuirassiers: Ponsonby was killed, and scarce a fifth of the brigade returned. La Haye Sainte, meanwhile, enveloped on all sides, had been stormed, and the 400 gallant Hanoverians who composed the garrison bayoneted; while Ney's columns, forming under cover of the farm-house, pushed on, supported by Milhaud and his cuirassiers, to pierce the Allied centre. They forced their way almost to the tree where Wellington had taken his station; but they were driven back by the advance of the 79th Highlanders ; while the heavy brigade (Life Guards, Royal Horse Guards, and 1st Dragoon Guards) under Lord Edward Somerset, bore down with such vigour on the cuirassiers that they were fairly ridden over by the weight of man and horse, and a considerable number pushed headlong over a precipice into a gravel-pit.

Napoleon, however, still persisted in his attack on the centre, and brought up his whole cavalry to the attack, while at the same time he attempted to turn the British right. The Belgians were driven back in dismay, and one of the hussar regiments fled straight to Brussels; but the British and Brunswickers, in spite of the storm of shot and shells sent through their squares, and the incessant headlong charges of the cuirassiers, whose enthusiastic valour was excited almost to madness, stood as if rooted in the earth, and defied every effort to break them. It was now half-past four, and the advanced guard of the Prussians under Bulow was beginning to debouch

from the woods on the French right flank; and though they were driven back by Lobau and Duhesme, Napoleon saw that no time was to be lost, and ordered a grand effort of the Old and Young Guard, with the whole remaining cuirassiers, against the diminished and weary ranks of the British centre. At a quarter past seven the first column of the Guard, under Reille, advanced up the hill beside Hougoumont with tremendous shouts of " Vive l'Empereur!" but so terrible was the fire of the British artillery on their long flank, that the head of the column, constantly pushed on by the rear, never advanced, but melted away as it came into the scene of carnage. But the second column, under Ney, pushing up the hill to the left of La Haye Sainte, forced back the British guns, and came to within forty paces of the Foot Guards, 73d, and 30th, who were lying down under shelter of the ridge. Wellington now gave the order to charge; and a volley was poured in, so close and well directed, that nearly the whole of the two first French ranks fell. The immense column, though forced back, was still bravely combating, when the charge of the 10th, 18th, and 21st dragoons, under Vivian, on the one flank, and of Adam's foot on the other, while the Guards pressed them in front, threw them into inextricable confusion; and they were driven headlong down the hill, spreading dismay and disorder through the whole French centre.

The moment of victory had now arrived, and the last hour of Napoleon's empire had struck. At the instant when Ney's column was recoiling in disorder, the standards of Blucher appeared in the wood beyond Ohain; and perceiving that the Prussians had come up in strength, Wellington ordered an advance of the whole line. 50,000 men streamed over the summit of the hill, driving before them the last columns of the Guard; while Bulow and Ziethen, with 36,000 Prussians, emerged from the wood, and opened a terrible fire from 100 pieces of cannon. The French saw that all was lost, and, breaking their ranks in despair, fled tumultously towards the rear, pursued by the whole British cavalry. Up to this moment, Napoleon had preserved his calm demeanour; but on seeing the British horse mingled with the fugitives, he became pale as death, and exclaiming to Bertrand, "All is lost at present-let us save ourselves!" fled at the gallop from the field. The Old Guard for a moment attempted to rally, but in vain. The whole French army became a mass of inextricable confusion. One

hundred and fifty guns, 350 caissons, and 6000 prisoners, were taken by the British before fatigue compelled them to halt at La Belle Alliance, where Blucher and Wellington met and saluted each other as victors. The pursuit was continued, however, by Ziethen's Prussians, who pressed the flying French during the whole night. Napoleon's carriage and private papers were taken near Gemappe; and he himself, flying all night on horseback, reached Charleroi at six the next morning. The torrent of fugitives continued to pour over the bridge during the whole day; but scarcely 40,000 men, with only 27 guns, crossed the Sambre. The loss of the French in the battle and pursuit had been at least 40,000; and the efficiency of the army was totally destroyed-the infantry dispersing, and the cavalry selling their horses, and making the best of their way home. The loss of Wellington's army at Waterloo was 15,000 men; that of the Prussians 7000 more.

ANECDOTES OF WELLINGTON.

Lord Brougham relates of the Duke of Wellington, that, "while Napoleon passed within range of an English battery at Waterloo, and the officers were about to fire at the group, he at once and peremptorily forbade it. This passage in his illustrious and unstained life is worth a thousand superfluous panegyrics, and puts to flight all imputations upon him as wanting in those feelings which, in the company of more rare and stern qualities, are ever found to adorn the character of the greatest men.

One of the three letters written by the duke from the field was a brief note, which, having enumerated some who had fallen, ends thus emphatically: "I have escaped unhurt. The finger of Providence was on me." What the impulse was which dictated these extraordinary words we leave to the opinion of those who read them. When the dreadful fight was over, the duke's feelings, so long kept at the highest tension, gave way; and, as he rode amidst the groans of the wounded and the reeking carnage, and heard the rout of the vanquished and the shouts of the victors fainter and fainter through the gloom of night, he wept, and soon after wrote the words above quoted from his letter.

SECTION IV.

ZOOLOGY AND BOTANY.

GENERAL VIEW OF ANIMATED NATURE.

(From the Bridgewater Treatise, by P. M. ROGET.)

TURNING from the examination of the passive objects of the material world, we direct our attention to the busy theatre of animated existence, where scenes of wonder and enchantment are displayed in endless variety around us; where life in its ever-changing forms meets the eye in every region to which our researches can extend; and where every element and every clime is peopled by multitudinous races of sensitive beings, who have received from the bounteous hand of their Creator the gift of existence and the means of enjoyment. Our curiosity is powerfully excited by phenomena in which our own welfare is so intimately concerned, as are all those that relate to animal life; and we cannot but take a lively and sympathetic interest in the history of beings in many respects so analogous to ourselves; like us, possessing powers of spontaneous action, impelled by passions and desires, and endowed with capacities of enjoyment and of suffering. Can there be a more gratifying spectacle than to see an animal in the full vigour of health, and the free exercise of its powers, disporting in its native element, revelling in the bliss of existence, and testifying by its incessant gambols the exuberance of its joy?

We cannot take even a cursory survey of the host of living beings profusely spread over every portion of the globe, without a feeling of profound astonishment at the inconceivable variety of forms and constructions to which animation has been imparted by creative power. What can be more calculated to excite our wonder than the diversity exhibited among insects, all of which, amidst endless modifications of shape, still preserve their conformity to one general plan of construction? The number of distinct species of insects already known and described cannot be estimated at less than 100,000; and every

day is adding to the catalogue. Of the comparatively large animals which live on land, how splendid is the field of observation that lies open to the naturalist! What variety is conspicuous in the tribes of quadrupeds and of reptiles; and what endless diversity exists in their habits, pursuits, and characters! How extensive is the study of birds alone; and how ingeniously, if we may so express it, has nature interwoven in their construction every possible variation compatible with an adherence to the same general model of design, and the same ultimate reference to the capacity for motion through the light element of air. What profusion of being is displayed in the wide expanse of the ocean, through which are scattered such various and such unknown multitudes of animals! Of fishes alone, the varieties, as to conformation and endowments, are endless. Still more curious and anomalous, both in their external form, and their internal economy, are the numerous orders of living beings that occupy the lower divisions of the animal scale; some swimming in countless myriads near the surface; some dwelling in the inaccessible depths of the ocean: some attached to shells, or other solid structures, the productions of their own bodies, and which, in process of time, form, by their accumulation, enormous submarine mountains, rising often from unfathomable depths to the surface. What sublime views of the magnificence of creation have been disclosed by the microscope, in the world of infinite minuteness, peopled by countless multitudes of atomic beings which animate almost every fluid in nature. Of these, a vast variety of species has been discovered, each animalcule being provided with appropriate organs, endowed with spontaneous powers of motion, and giving unequivocal signs of individual vitality. The recent observations of Professor Ehrenberg have brought to light the existence of monads, which are not larger than the 24,000th part of an inch, and which are so thickly crowded in the fluid as to leave intervals not greater than their own diameter. Hence he has made the computation that each cubic line, which is nearly the bulk of a single drop, contains 500,000,000 of these monads, a number which almost equals that of all the human beings existing on the surface of the earth.

Thus, if we review every region of the globe, from the scorching sands of the equator to the icy realms of the poles, or from the lofty mountain summits to the dark abysses of the deep, if we penetrate into the shades of the forest, or into the